THE   DEMI-GODS 


THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK    •    BOSTON  •    CHICAGO  •    DALLAS 
ATLANTA  •   SAN  FRANCISCO 

MACMILLAN  &  CO.,  LIMITED 

LONDON  •    BOMBAY  •    CALCUTTA 
MELBOURNE 

THE  MACMILLAN  CO.  OF  CANADA,  LTD. 

TORONTO 


THE    DEMI-GODS 


BY 


JAMES   STEPHENS 

AUTHOR  OF  "  THE  HILL  OF  VISION,"  "  THE  CROCK 
OF  GOLD,"  "  HERE  ARE  LADIES,"  ETC. 


Nefo  gorfc 

THE   MACMILLAN   COMPANY 
1914 

All  rights  reserved 


COPYRIGHT,  1914, 
BY  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY. 

Set  up  and  electrotyped.     Published  October,  1914. 


J.  S.  Gushing  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith  Co. 
Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


THOMAS   BODKIN 


CONTENTS 

BOOK  I 


PAGB 

PATSY  MAC  CANN       ...  i 


BOOK  II 
EILEEN  Ni  COOLEY 85 

BOOK  III 
BRIEN  O'BRIEN 141 

BOOK  IV 
MARY  MAC  CANN 225 


BOOK  I 

PATSY  MAC  CANN 


CHAPTER  I 

"WiLL  you  leave  that  donkey  alone," 
said  Patsy  Mac  Cann  to  his  daughter. 
"  I  never  heard  the  like  of  it,"  he  con 
tinued  testily.  "  I  tell  you  the  way  you 
do  be  going  on  with  the  ass  is  enough 
to  make  a  Christian  man  swear,  so  it 


is." 


; '  You  let  me  be, "  she  replied.  "  If  I  was 
doing  hurt  or  harm  to  you  I  wouldn't  mind, 
and  if  I  am  fond  of  the  ass  itself  what  does 
it  matter  to  anybody  ?" 

"It's  this  way,  that  I  don't  like  to  see  a 
woman  kissing  an  ass  on  the  snout,  it's  not 
natural  nor  proper." 

"A  lot  you  know  about  natural  and 
proper.  Let  you  leave  me  alone  now ;  and, 
besides  that,  doesn't  the  ass  like  it  ?  " 

"That's  not  a  reason;  sure  it  doesn't 
matter  in  the  world  what  an  ass  likes  or  dis- 

3 


DEMI-GODS 

likes,  and,  anyhow,  an  ass  doesn't  like  any 
thing  except  carrots  and  turnips." 

"This  one  does/'  said  she  stoutly. 

"And  a  body  might  be  kissing  an  ass 
until  the  black  day  of  doom  and  he  wouldn't 
mind  it." 

"This  one  minds." 

"Kissing  an  old  ass  !" 

"One  has  to  be  kissing  something." 

"Let  you  kiss  me  then  and  get  done  with 
it,"  said  he. 

She  regarded  him  in  amazement. 

"What  would  I  kiss  you  for?  Sure 
you're  my  father,  and  aren't  you  as  old  as 
the  hills?" 

"Well,  well,  you're  full  of  fun,  and  that's 
what  I  say.  Take  the  winkers  off  that 
donkey's  face,  and  let  him  get  a  bit  to  eat ; 
there's  grass  enough,  God  knows,  and  it's 
good  grass." 

Mary  busied  herself  with  the  winkers  and 
the  bit  while  her  father  continued : 

"What  I  wish  is  this,  that  Christian 
people  were  able  to  eat  grass  like  the 


PATSY  MAC  CANN  5 

beasts,  and  then  there  wouldn't  be  any  more 
trouble  in  the  world.  Are  you  listening 
to  me,  Mary,  or  are  you  listening  to  the 
donkey?" 

"It's  you  I'm  listening  to." 

"I  say  this,  that  if  every  person  had 
enough  to  eat  there' d  be  no  more  trouble  in 
the  world  and  we  could  fight  our  fill.  What 
have  you  got  in  the  basket  ?  " 

"I've  the  loaf  that  I  bought  in  the  shop 
at  Knockbeg,  and  the  half  loaf  that  you  took 
out  of  the  woman's  window  —  it's  fresher 
than  the  other  one." 

"  I  was  guided, ' '  said  her  father.  ' '  We'll 
eat  that  one  first  the  way  no  person  can 
claim  it.  What  else  have  you  got  ?  " 

"I've  the  white  turnip  that  I  found  in  a 
field." 

"There's  great  nourishment  in  turnips; 
the  cattle  do  get  fat  on  them  in  winter." 

"And  I've  the  two  handfuls  of  potatoes 
<  that  you  gathered  at  the  bend  of  the 
'  road." 

"Roast  themselves   in   the  embers,   for 


6  THE   DEMI-GODS 

that's  the  only  road  to  cook  a  potato.  What 
way  are  we  going  to  eat  to-night?" 

"We'll  eat  the  turnip  first,  and  then 
we'll  eat  the  bread,  and  after  that  we'll 
eat  the  potatoes." 

"And  fine  they'll  taste.  I'll  cut  the 
turnip  for  you  with  the  sailorman's  jack- 
knife." 

The  day  had  drawn  to  its  close.  The 
stars  had  not  yet  come,  nor  the  moon.  Far 
to  the  west  a  red  cloud  poised  on  the  horizon 
like  a  great  whale  and,  moment  by  moment, 
it  paled  and  faded  until  it  was  no  more  than 
a  pink  flush.  On  high,  clouds  of  pearl  and 
snow  piled  and  fell  and  sailed  away  on  easy 
voyages.  It  was  the  twilight  —  a  twilight 
of  such  quietude  that  one  could  hear  the 
soft  voice  of  the  world  as  it  whispered 
through  leaf  and  twig.  There  was  no 
breeze  to  swing  the  branches  of  the  trees 
or  to  creep  among  the  rank  grasses  and 
set  them  dancing,  and  yet  everywhere 
there  was  unceasing  movement  and  a 


PATSY  MAC  CANN  7 

sound  that  never  ceased.  About  them, 
for  mile  upon  mile,  there  was  no  habitation 
of  man ;  there  was  no  movement  anywhere 
except  when  a  bird  dipped  and  soared  in  a 
hasty  flight  homewards,  or  when  a  beetle 
went  slugging  by  like  a  tired  bullet. 

Mary  had  unharnessed  the  ass  and  bade 
him,  with  an  affectionate  kiss,  to  eat  his 
full.  The  donkey  stood  for  a  moment 
with  his  ears  and  tail  hanging  down,  then 
he  lifted  both  his  ears  and  his  tail,  slung 
up  his  ragged  head,  bared  his  solid  teeth, 
and  brayed  furiously  for  two  minutes. 
That  accomplished  he  trotted  briskly  a 
few  paces,  bent  to  the  grass,  and  began 
to  eat  so  eagerly  that  one  would  think 
eating  was  more  of  a  novelty  to  him  than 
it  could  be  to  an  ass  of  his  years. 

"The  sound  of  that  beast's  voice  does 
get  on  my  nerves/'  said  Patsy. 

"He  has  a  powerful  voice,  sure  enough, 
God  bless  him  !  Sit  down  there  by  the 
hedge  and  light  the  fire  while  I'm  getting 
the  things  ready;  the  night  will  be  on  us 


8  THE   DEMI-GODS 

in  a  few  minutes   and  it  will   be  a  cold 
night." 

While  she  moved  busily  from  the  cart 
to  the  hedge  her  father  employed  himself 
lighting  a  fire  of  turf  in  a  wrinkled  bucket. 
When  this  was  under  way  he  pulled  out 
a  pipe,  black  as  a  coal,  and  off  which  half 
the  shank  was  broken,  and  this  he  put 
into  his  mouth.  At  the  moment  he  seemed 
to  be  sunken  in  thought,  his  eyes  to  the 
grass  and  his  feet  planted,  and  it  was  in  a 
musing  voice  that  he  spoke : 

"  Do  you  know  what  I'd  do,  Mary,  if  I  had 
a  bottle  of  porter  beside  me  in  this  field  ?" 

"I  do  well,"  she  replied;  "you'd  drink 
it." 

"I  would  so,  but  before  I'd  drink  it 
I'd  put  the  end  of  this  pipe  into  it,  for  it's 
newly  cracked,  and  it  sticks  to  my  lips  in 
a  way  that  would  anger  a  man  wanting  a 
smoke,  and  if  I  could  stick  it  into  the 
porter  it  would  be  cured.  I  don't  suppose, 
now,  that  you  have  a  sup  of  porter  in  the 
cart!" 


PATSY  MAC   CANN  9 

11 1  have  not." 

"Because  if  you  had  a  small  sup  I'd  be 
able  to  get  a  smoke  this  night,  as  well  as  a 
drink." 

"  You're  full  of  fun,"  said  she  sourly. 

"I  saw  a  bottle  in  your  hand  a  while 
back,"  he  continued  musingly,  "and  it 
looked  like  a  weighty  bottle." 

"It's  full  to  the  neck  with  spring  water." 

"Ah  !"  said  her  father,  and  he  regarded 
that  distant  horizon  whereon  the  pink 
cloud  was  now  scarcely  visible  as  a  pink- 
ness  and  was  no  longer  the  -shape  of  a 
great  whale. 

After  a  moment  he  continued  in  a  care 
less  voice : 

"You  might  hand  me  the  bottle  of 
spring  water,  alanna,  till  I  wet  my  lips 
with  it.  It's  a  great  thing  for  the  thirst, 
I'm  told,  and  it's  healthy  beside  that." 

"I'm  keeping  that  sup  of  water  to  make 
the  tea  when  we'd  be  wanting  it." 

"Well,  I'll  only  take  a  drop  out  of  it, 
and  I  won't  lose  the  cork." 


io  THE   DEMI-GODS 

"You  can  get  it  yourself,  then,"  said 
Mary,  "for  I've  plenty  to  do  and  you 
haven't." 

Her  father,  rolling  his  tough  chin  with 
his  fingers,  went  to  the  cart.  He  found 
the  bottle,  lifted  the  cork,  smelt  it,  tasted : 

"It  is  spring  water  indeed,"  said  he,  and 
he  thumped  the  cork  back  again  with  some 
irritation  and  replaced  the  bottle  in  the 
cart. 

"I  thought  you  wanted  a  drink,"  said 
his  daughter  mildly. 

"So  I  do,"  he  replied,  "but  I  can't 
stand  the  little  creatures  that  do  be  wriggling 
about  in  spring  water.  I  wouldn't  like  to 
be  swallowing  them  unknown.  Ah  !  them 
things  don't  be  in  barrels  that  you  buy  in 
a  shop,  and  that's  a  fact." 

She  was  preparing  the  potatoes  when  a 
remark  from  her  father  caused  her  to  pause. 

"What  is  it?"  said  she. 

"It's  a  bird.  I  saw  it  for  a  second 
against  a  white  piece  of  a  cloud,  and  I 
give  you  my  word  that  it's  as  big  as  a 


PATSY  MAC   CANN  n 

haystack.     There    it    is    again/'    he    con 
tinued  excitedly,  "there's  three  of  them." 

For  a  few  minutes  they  followed  the 
flight  of  these  amazing  birds,  but  the 
twilight  had  almost  entirely  departed  and 
darkness  was  brooding  over  the  land. 
They  did  not  see  them  any  more. 


CHAPTER  II 

AND  yet  it  was  but  a  short  distance 
from  where  they  camped  that  the  angels 
first  put  foot  to  earth. 

It  is  useless  to  question  what  turmoil 
of  wind  or  vagary  of  wing  brought  them 
to  this  desert  hill  instead  of  to  a  place 
more  worthy  of  their  grandeur,  for,  in 
deed,  they  were  gorgeously  apparelled  in 
silken  robes  of  scarlet  and  gold  and  purple ; 
upon  their  heads  were  crowns  high  in 
form  and  of  curious,  intricate  workman 
ship,  and  their  wings,  stretching  ten  feet 
on  either  side,  were  of  many  and  shining 
colours. 

Enough  that  here  they  did  land,  and  in 
this  silence  and  darkness  they  stood  for 
a  few  moments  looking  about  them. 

Then  one  spoke : 

"Art,"    said    he,    "we    were    too    busy 

12 


PATSY   MAC   CANN  13 

coming  down  to  look  about  us  carefully ; 
spring  up  again  a  little  way,  and  see  if 
there  is  any  house  in  sight." 

At  the  word  one  of  the  three  stepped 
forward  a  pace,  and  leaped  twenty  feet 
into  the  air ;  his  great  wings  swung  out 
as  he  leaped,  they  beat  twice,  and  he 
went  circling  the  hill  in  steady,  noiseless 
flight. 

He  returned  in  a  minute : 

"There  are  no  houses  here,  but  a  little 
way  below  I  saw  a  fire  and  two  people 
sitting  beside  it." 

"We  will  talk  to  them,"  said  the  other. 
"Show  the  way,  Art." 

"Up  then,"  said  Art. 

"No,"  said  the  Angel  who  had  not  yet 
spoken.  "I  am  tired  of  flying.  We  will 
walk  to  this  place  you  speak  of." 

"Very  well,"  replied  Art,  "let  us  walk." 

And  they  went  forward. 

Around  the  little  bucket  of  fire  where 
Mac  Cann  and  his  daughter  were  sitting 


H  THE  DEMI-GODS 

there  was  an  intense  darkness.  At  the 
distance  of  six  feet  they  could  still  see, 
but  delicately,  indistinctly,  and  beyond 
that  the  night  hung  like  a  velvet  curtain. 
They  did  not  mind  the  night,  they  did  not 
fear  it,  they  did  not  look  at  it:  it  was 
around  them,  full  of  strangeness,  full  of 
mystery  and  terror,  but  they  looked  only 
at  the  glowing  brazier,  and  in  the  red 
cheer  of  that  they  were  content. 

They  had  eaten  the  bread  and  the 
turnip,  and  were  waiting  for  the  potatoes 
to  be  cooked,  and  as  they  waited  an  odd 
phrase,  an  exclamation,  a  sigh  would  pass 
from  one  to  the  other ;  and  then,  suddenly, 
the  dark  curtain  of  night  moved  noiselessly, 
and  the  three  angels  stepped  nobly  in  the 
firelight. 

For  an  instant  neither  Mac  Cann  nor 
his  daughter  made  a  movement ;  they 
did  not  make  a  sound.  Here  was  terror, 
and  astonishment  the  sister  of  terror: 
they  gaped :  their  whole  being  was  in 
their  eyes  as  they  stared.  From  Mac 


PATSY  MAC  CANN  15 

Cann's  throat  came  a  noise ;  it  had  no 
grammatical  significance,  but  it  was 
weighted  with  all  the  sense  that  is  in  a 
dog's  growl  or  a  wolf's  cry.  Then  the 
youngest  of  the  strangers  came  forward: 

"May  we  sit  by  your  fire  for  a  little 
time?"  said  he.  "The  night  is  cold,  and 
in  this  darkness  one  does  not  know  where 
to  go." 

At  the  sound  of  words  Patsy  seized  hold 
of  his  sliding  civilization. 

"To  be  sure,"  he  stammered.  "Why 
wouldn't  your  honour  sit  down?  There 
isn't  a  seat,  but  you're  welcome  to  the 
grass  and  the  light  of  the  fire." 

"Mary,"  he  continued,  looking  hastily 
around  — 

But  Mary  was  not  there.  The  same 
instant  those  tall  forms  strode  from  the 
darkness  in  front  Mary  had  slipped,  swift 
and  noiseless  as  the  shadow  of  a  cat,  into 
the  darkness  behind  her. 

"Mary,"  said  her  father  again,  "these 
are  decent  people,  I'm  thinking.  Let  you 


1 6  THE   DEMI-GODS 

come  from  wherever  you  are,  for  I'm  sure 
they  wouldn't  hurt  yourself  or  myself." 

As  swiftly  as  she  had  disappeared  she 
reappeared. 

"I  was  looking  if  the  ass  was  all  right," 
said  she  sullenly. 

She  sat  again  by  the  brazier,  and  began 
to  turn  the  potatoes  with  a  stick.  She 
did  not  appear  to  be  taking  any  heed  of 
the  strangers,  but  it  is  likely  that  she  was 
able  to  see  them  without  looking,  because, 
as  is  well  known,  women  and  birds  are 
able  to  see  without  turning  their  heads, 
and  that  is  indeed  a  necessary  provision, 
for  they  are  both  surrounded  by  enemies. 


CHAPTER   III 

THE  remarkable  thing  about  astonish 
ment  is  that  it  can  only  last  for  an  instant. 
No  person  can  be  surprised  for  more  than 
that  time.  You  will  come  to  terms  with 
a  ghost  within  two  minutes  of  its  appear 
ance,  and  it  had  scarcely  taken  that  time 
for  Mac  Cann  and  his  daughter  to  become 
one  with  the  visitors. 

If  the  surprisor  and  the  surprisee  are 
mutually  astonished,  then,  indeed,  there  is 
a  tangle  out  of  which  anything  may  emerge, 
for  two  explanations  are  necessary  at  the 
one  moment,  and  two  explanations  can  no 
more  hold  the  same  position  in  time  than 
two  bodies  can  occupy  the  same  lodgment 
in  space. 

It  needed  alone  that  the  angels  should 
proclaim  their  quality  for  the  situation  to 
arrange  itself  naturally. 

Man  is  a  scientific  creature ;    he  labels 

c  17 


1 8  THE   DEMI-GODS 

his  ignorance  and  shelves  it :  mystery 
affrights  him,  it  bores  him,  but  when  he 
has  given  a  name  to  any  appearance  then 
mystery  flies  away,  and  reality  alone  re 
mains  for  his  cogitation.  Later,  perhaps, 
reality  will  enrage  and  mystify  him  more 
profoundly  than  any  unexpectedness  can 
do. 

The  Mac  Canns,  so  far  as  they  professed 
a  religion,  were  Catholics.  Deeper  than 
that  they  were  Irish  folk.  From  their 
cradles,  if  ever  they  had  cradles  other 
than  a  mother's  breast  and  shoulder,  they 
had  supped  on  wonder.  They  believed 
as  easily  as  an  animal  does,  for  most 
creatures  are  forced  to  credit  everything 
long  before  they  are  able  to  prove  any 
thing.  We  have  arranged  to  label  these 
faculties  of  imagination  and  prophecy 
among  the  lesser  creatures  Instinct,  and 
with  the  label  we  have  thrown  overboard 
more  of  mystery  than  we  could  afford  to 
live  with.  Later  these  may  confront  us 
again  in  our  proper  souls,  and  the  wonder 


PATSY   MAC   CANN  19 

and  terror  so  long  overdue  will  compel 
our  tardy  obeisance. 

At  the  end  of  amazement,  as  of  all  else, 
we  go  to  sleep,  and,  within  an  hour  of  their 
meeting,  the  angels  and  the  Mac  Canns 
were  stretched  in  one  common  unconscious 
ness. 

The  angels  were  asleep,  their  attitudes 
proclaimed  it.  Patsy  was  asleep,  his  nose, 
with  the  unpleasant  emphasis  of  a  cracked 
trumpet,  pealed  wheezy  confirmation  of  his 
slumber.  His  daughter  was  asleep,  for 
there  by  the  brazier  she  lay,  motionless 
as  the  ground  itself. 

Perhaps  she  was  not  asleep.  Perhaps 
she  was  lying  with  her  face  to  the  skies, 
staring  through  the  darkness  at  the  pale, 
scarce  stars,  dreaming  dreams  and  seeing 
visions,  while,  all  around,  down  the  in 
visible  road  and  across  the  vanished  fields 
and  the  hills,  night  trailed  her  dusky  robes 
and  crushed  abroad  her  poppy. 

Whether  she  had  slept  or  not  she  was 
the  first  to  arise  in  the  morning. 


20  THE   DEMI-GODS 

A  pale  twilight  was  creeping  over  the 
earth,  and  through  it  one  could  see  chilly 
trees  and  shivering  grass  ;  the  heavy  clouds 
huddled  together  as  though  they  were 
seeking  warmth  on  those  grisly  heights ; 
the  birds  had  not  yet  left  their  nests ;  it 
was  an  hour  of  utter  silence  and  uncome- 
liness ;  an  hour  for  blind  and  despairing 
creatures  to  move  forward  spitefully,  curs 
ing  themselves  and  the  powers;  an  hour 
when  imagination  has  no  function,  and  hope 
would  fly  again  to  the  darkness  rather  than 
remain  in  that  livid  wilderness,  for  this 
was  not  yet  the  thin  child  of  the  dawn, 
crowned  with  young  buds  and  active  as 
a  wintry  leaf;  it  was  the  abortion  of  the 
dawn,  formless,  heavy,  and  detestable. 

Moving  cautiously  in  that  shade,  Mary 
herself  seemed  no  more  than  a  shadow ; 
she  diminished  thin  and  formless  as  a 
wraith,  while  she  trod  carefully  to  and 
fro  from  the  cart  to  the  hedge. 

She  sat  down,  unloosed  her  hair  and 
commenced  to  brush  it. 


PATSY   MAC   CANN  21 

In  this  colourless  light  her  hair  had  no 
colour,  but  was  of  astonishing  length  and 
thickness ;  it  flowed  about  her  like  a  cloak, 
and  as  she  sat  it  rolled  and  crept  on  the 
grass.  She  did  not  often  tend  her  hair 
thus.  Sometimes  she  plaited  it  for  the 
sake  of  convenience,  so  that  windy  days 
would  not  whip  it  into  her  eyes  or  lash 
her  cheeks  ;  sometimes,  through  sheer  lazi 
ness,  she  did  not  even  plait  it,  she  rolled 
it  into  a  great  ball  and  drew  a  wide,  mas 
culine  cap  over  its  brightness ;  and  now, 
before  the  day  had  broken,  sitting  in  a 
ghastly  lightness,  which  was  neither  light 
nor  darkness,  she  was  attending  to  her 
hair. 

And  this  hair  perplexed  her,  for  she  did 
not  know  what  to  do  with  it ;  she  did  not 
know  whether  it  was  to  be  seen  or  not 
seen;  whether  to  braid  it  in  two  great 
ropes,  or  roll  it  carelessly  or  carefully 
above  her  head,  or  let  it  hang  loosely  about 
her  shoulders  held  only  at  the  nape  with 
a  piece  of  ribbon  or  stuff.  An  hesitation 


22  THE   DEMI-GODS 

such  as  this  was  new  to  her ;  she  had  never 
had  occasion  for  such  forethought ;  it 
was  strange  and  inquieting ;  more  disturb 
ing,  indeed,  than  the  visit  at  black  of 
night  of  those  tall  strangers  whose  eyes 
and  voices  were  so  quiet,  and  whose  ap 
pointments  flashed  in  the  firelight  while 
they  spoke  to  her  father  of  the  things  in 
which  travellers  are  interested. 

She  looked  at  them  where  they  lay,  but 
they  were  scarcely  more  than  visible  —  a 
tangle  of  flowing  cloths  and  great  limbs 
fading  away  in  the  rank  grasses  and  the 
obscurity,  and  to  her  mind  the  real  wonder 
was  not  that  they  had  come,  but  that  they 
were  still  there,  and  that  they  were  sleeping 
deeply  and  peacefully  as  she  had  slept  so 
often,  with  her  head  pillowed  on  her  arm 
and  her  limbs  folded  calmly  between  the 
earth  and  the  sky. 


CHAPTER  IV 

HER  hair  was  not  braided  ;  it  was  tied  at 
the  neck  with  a  piece  of  whitish  cloth  torn 
from  some  part  of  her  clothing,  and  upon  her 
shoulders  it  billowed  and  rolled  in  magnifi 
cent  living  abundance. 

Very  gently  she  moved  to  where  her 
father  lay  on  his  back  with  his  mouth  open 
and  his  black  chin  jutting  at  the  sky.  He 
was  breathing  through  his  mouth,  so  he  was 
not  snoring  any  longer.  She  lifted  the  three 
or  four  sacks  which  covered  him,  and  rocked 
his  shoulders  cautiously  until  he  awakened. 

Her  father  awakened  exactly  as  she  did, 
exactly  as  every  open-air  animal  does ;  his 
eyes  flew  wide,  instantly  and  entirely  wake 
ful,  and  he  looked  at  her  with  full  compre 
hension  of  their  adventure.  He  raised 
softly  on  an  elbow  and  glanced  to  where 
the  strangers  were ;  then  nodded  to  his 
daughter  and  rose  noiselessly  to  his  feet. 

23 


24  THE   DEMI-GODS 

She  beckoned  him  and  they  stepped  a  few 
paces  away  so  that  they  might  talk  in 
security. 

Mary  was  about  to  speak  but  her  father 
prevented  her : 

"Listen,"  he  whispered,  "the  best  thing 
we  can  do  is  to  load  the  things  into  the  cart, 
without  making  any  noise,  mind  you  !  then 
we'll  yoke  the  little  ass  as  easy  as  anything, 
and  then  I'll  get  into  the  cart  and  I'll  drive 
off  as  hard  as  ever  I  can  pelt,  and  you  can 
run  beside  the  ass  with  a  stick  in  your  hand 
and  you  welting  the  devil  out  of  him  to 
make  him  go  quick.  I'm  no  good  myself  at 
the  running,  and  that's  why  I'll  get  into  the 
cart,  but  you  can  run  like  a  hare,  and  that's 
why  you'll  wallop  the  beast." 

"Mind  now,"  he  continued  fiercely,  "we 
don't  know  who  them  fellows  are  at  all,  and 
what  would  the  priest  say  if  he  heard  we 
were  stravaiging  the  country  with  three  big, 
buck  angels,  and  they  full  of  tricks  maybe ; 
so  go  you  now  and  be  lifting  in  the  things 
and  I'll  give  you  good  help  myself." 


PATSY   MAC   CANN  25 

"I'll  do  nothing  of  the  kind,"  whispered 
Mary  angrily,  "and  it  wasn't  for  that  I 
woke  you  up." 

"Won't  you,  indeed?"  said  her  father 
fiercely. 

"What  would  they  be  thinking  of  us  at  all 
if  they  were  to  rouse  and  see  us  sneaking  off 
in  that  way  ?  I'm  telling  you  now  that  I 
won't  do  it,  and  that  you  won't  do  it  either, 
and  if  you  make  a  move  to  the  cart  I'll  give 
a  shout  that  will  waken  the  men." 

"The  devil's  in  you,  you  strap  !"  replied 
her  father,  grinding  his  teeth  at  her.  ' '  What 
call  have  we  to  be  mixing  ourselves  up  with 
holy  angels  that'll  be  killing  us  maybe  in  an 
hour  or  half  an  hour ;  and  maybe  they're  not 
angels  at  all  but  men  that  do  be  travelling 
the  land  in  a  circus  and  they  full  of  fun  and 
devilment?" 

"  It's  angels  they  are,"  replied  his  daughter 
urgently,  "and  if  they're  not  angels  itself 
they  are  rich  men,  for  there's  big  rings  of 
gold  on  their  fingers,  and  every  ring  has  a 
diamond  in  it,  and  they've  golden  chains 


26  THE   DEMI-GODS 

across  their  shoulders,  I'm  telling  you,  and 
the  stuff  in  their  clothes  is  fit  for  the  children 
of  a  king.  It's  rich  and  very  rich  they  are." 

Mac  Cann  rasped  his  chin  with  his  thumb. 

11  Do  you  think  they  are  rich  folk  ?  " 

"I  do,  indeed." 

"Then,"  said  her  father  in  an  abstracted 
tone,  "we  won't  say  anything  more  about 
it." 

After  a  moment  he  spoke  again : 

"What  were  you  thinking  about  your 
self?" 

"I  was  thinking,"  she  replied,  "that  when 
they  waken  up  in  a  little  while  there  won't 
be  anything  at  all  for  them  to  eat  and  they 
strangers." 

"Hum!"  said  her  father. 

"  There's  two  cold  potatoes  in  the  basket," 
she  continued,  "and  a  small  piece  of  bread, 
and  there  isn't  anything  more  than  that ; 
so  let  you  be  looking  around  for  something 
to  eat  the  way  we  won't  be  put  to  shame 
before  the  men." 

" It's  easy  talking  ! "  said  he  ;  "where  am 


PATSY   MAC   CANN  27 

I  to  look?  Do  you  want  me  to  pick  red 
herrings  out  of  the  grass  and  sides  of  bacon 
off  the  little  bushes  ?  " 

"We  passed  a  house  last  night  a  mile 
down  the  road,"  said  Mary  ;  "go  you  there 
and  get  whatever  you're  able  to  get,  and  if 
you  can't  get  anything  buy  it  off  the  people 
in  the  house.  I've  three  shillings  in  my 
pocket  that  I  was  saving  for  a  particular 
thing,  but  I'll  give  them  to  you  because  I 
wouldn't  like  to  be  shamed  before  the 
strange  men." 

Her  father  took  the  money : 

"I  wish  I  knew  that  you  had  it  yester 
day,"  he  growled,  "I  wouldn't  have  gone  to 
sleep  with  a  throat  on  me  like  a  mid-summer 
ditch  and  it  full  of  dust  and  pismires." 

Mary  pushed  him  down  the  road. 

"Be  back  as  quick  as  you  are  able,  and 
buy  every  kind  of  thing  that  you  can  get  for 
the  three  shillings." 

She  watched  him  stamping  heavily  down 
the  road,  and  then  she  returned  again  to 
their  encampment. 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  visitors  had  not  awakened. 

Now  the  air  was  growing  clearer;  the 
first  livid  pallor  of  the  dawn  had  changed 
to  a  wholesome  twilight,  and  light  was  roll 
ing  like  clear  smoke  over  the  land.  The  air 
looked  cold,  and  it  began  to  look  sharp 
instead  of  muddy  ;  now  the  trees  and  bushes 
stood  apart ;  they  seemed  lonely  and  un 
guarded  in  that  chill  dawning  ;  they  seemed 
like  living  things  which  were  cold  and  a 
little  frightened  in  an  immensity  to  which 
they  were  foreign  and  from  which  they  had 
much  to  dread. 

Of  all  unnatural  things,  if  that  word  can 
be  used  in  any  context,  there  is  none  more 
unnatural  than  silence,  there  is  none  so 
terrifying ;  for  silence  means  more  than  it 
self,  it  means  also  immobility ;  it  is  the 
symbol  and  signature  of  death,  and  from  it 

28 


PATSY   MAC   CANN  29 

no  one  knows  what  may  come  at  an  in 
stant  ;  for  silence  is  not  quietness,  it  is  the 
enemy  of  quietness  ;  against  it  your  watch 
must  climb  the  tower  and  stare  in  vain ; 
against  it  your  picket  must  be  set,  and  he 
will  thrust  a  lance  to  the  sound  of  his  own 
pulses ;  he  will  challenge  the  beating  of  his 
own  heart,  and  hear  his  own  harness 
threatening  him  at  a  distance. 

To  walk  in  a  forest  when  there  is  no  wind 
to  stir  the  branches  and  set  the  leaves  tap 
ping  upon  the  boughs,  this  is  terrifying ;  a 
lonely  sea  stretching  beyond  sight  and  upon 
which  there  is  no  ripple  holds  the  same 
despair,  and  a  grassy  plain  from  whence 
there  is  no  movement  visible  has  too  its 
desolating  horror. 

But  these  things  did  not  haunt  the  girl. 
She  did  not  heed  the  silence  for  she  did  not 
listen  to  it ;  she  did  not  heed  the  immensity 
for  she  did  not  see  it.  In  space  and  silence 
she  had  been  cradled  ;  they  were  her  foster- 
parents,  and  if  ever  she  looked  or  listened  it 
was  to  see  and  hear  something  quite  other 


30  THE   DEMI-GODS 

than  these.  Now  she  did  listen  and  look. 
She  listened  to  the  breathing  of  the  sleepers, 
and  soon,  for  she  was  a  female,  she  looked 
to  see  what  they  were  like. 

She  leaned  softly  over  one.  He  was  a 
noble  old  man  with  a  sweeping,  white  beard 
and  a  great  brow;  the  expression  of  his 
quiet  features  was  that  of  a  wise  infant ; 
her  heart  went  out  to  him  and  she  smiled  at 
him  in  his  sleep. 

She  trod  to  the  next  and  bent  again.  He 
was  younger,  but  not  young;  he  looked 
about  forty  years  of  age ;  his  features  were 
regular  and  very  determined ;  his  face 
looked  strong,  comely  as  though  it  had  been 
chiselled  from  a  gracious  stone  ;  there  was  a 
short  coal-black  beard  on  his  chin. 

She  turned  to  the  third  sleeper,  and  halted 
blushing.  She  remembered  his  face,  caught 
on  the  previous  night  in  one  lightning  peep 
while  she  slid  away  from  their  approach.  It 
was  from  him  she  had  fled  in  the  night,  and 
for  him  that  her  hair  was  now  draping  her 
shoulders  in  unaccustomed  beauty. 


PATSY   MAC   CANN  31 

She  did  not  dare  go  near  him ;  she  was 
afraid  that  if  she  bent  over  him  he  would 
flash  open  his  eyes  and  look  at  her,  and,  as 
yet,  she  could  not  support  such  a  look.  She 
knew  that  if  she  were  stretched  in  sleep  and 
he  approached  to  lean  across  her,  she  would 
awaken  at  the  touch  of  his  eyes,  and  she 
would  be  ashamed  and  frightened. 

She  did  not  look  at  him. 

She  went  again  to  her  place  and  set  to 
building  a  fire  in  the  brazier,  and,  while 
she  sat,  a  voice  began  to  sing  in  the  dawn ; 
not  loud,  but  very  gently,  very  sweetly.  It 
was  so  early  for  a  bird  to  sing,  and  she  did 
not  recognise  that  tune  although  the  sound 
of  it  was  thrilling  through  all  her  body. 
Softly,  more  softly,  O  Prophetic  Voice  !  I 
do  not  know  your  speech ;  I  do  not  know 
what  happiness  you  are  promising ;  is  it  of 
the  leaves  you  tell  and  of  a  nest  that  rocks 
high  on  a  leafy  spray ;  there  your  mate  swings 
cooing  to  herself.  She  swings  and  coos; 
she  is  folded  in  peace,  and  the  small,  white 
clouds  go  sailing  by  and  they  do  not  fall. 


32  THE   DEMI-GODS 

So  through  unimagined  ways  went  that 
song,  lifting  its  theme  in  terms  that  she 
did  not  comprehend  ;  but  it  was  not  a  bird 
that  sang  to  her,  it  was  her  own  heart  mak 
ing  its  obscure  music  and  lilting  its  secret, 
wild  lyrics  in  the  dawn. 


CHAPTER  VI 

IT  was  the  donkey  awakened  them. 

For  some  time  he  had  been  rolling  along 
the  ground  in  ecstasy ;  now  his  agitated  legs 
were  pointing  at  the  sky  while  he  scratched 
his  back  against  little  stones  and  clumps  of 
tough  clay ;  now  he  was  lying  flat  rubbing 
his  jowl  against  these  same  clumps.  He 
stood  up  suddenly,  shook  himself,  swung  up 
his  tail  and  his  chin,  bared  his  teeth,  fixed 
his  eye  on  eternity,  and  roared  "  hee-haw " 
in  a  voice  of  such  sudden  mightiness,  that 
not  alone  did  the  sleepers  bound  from  their 
slumbers,  but  the  very  sun  itself  leaped 
across  the  horizon  and  stared  at  him  with  its 
wild  eye. 

Mary  ran  and  beat  the  ass  on  the  nose 
with  her  fist,  but  whatever  Mary  did  to 
the  ass  was  understood  by  him  as  a  caress, 
and  he  willingly  suffered  it  —  " hee-haw," 

D  33 


34  THE   DEMI-GODS 

said  he  again  triumphantly,  and  he  planted 
his  big  head  on  her  shoulder  and  stared 
sadly  into  space. 

He  was  thinking,  and  thought  always 
makes  an  ass  look  sad,  but  what  he  was 
thinking  about  not  even  Mary  knew ;  his 
eye  was  hazy  with  cogitation,  and  he  looked 
as  wise  and  as  kindly  as  the  eldest  of  the 
three  angels  ;  indeed,  although  he  had  never 
been  groomed,  he  looked  handsome  also,  for 
he  had  the  shape  of  a  good  donkey;  his 
muzzle  and  his  paws  were  white,  the  rest  of 
his  body  was  black  and  his  eyes  were  brown. 
That  was  the  appearance  of  the  donkey. 

The  angels  arose  and,  much  as  the  ass 
did  they  shook  themselves;  there  was  no 
further  toilet  than  that  practicable;  they 
ran  their  hands  through  their  abundant  hair, 
and  the  two  who  had  beards  combed  these 
also  with  their  fingers  —  then  they  looked 
around  them. 

Now  the  birds  were  sweeping  and  climb 
ing  on  the  shining  air  ;  they  were  calling  and 
shrieking  and  singing ;  fifty  of  them,  and 


PATSY   MAC   CANN  35 

all  of  the  same  kind,  came  dashing  madly 
together,  and  they  all  sang  the  one  song,  so 
loud,  so  exultant,  the  heaven  and  earth 
seemed  to  ring  and  ring  again  of  their  glee. 

They  passed,  and  three  antic  wings  came 
tumbling  and  flirting  together ;  these  had  no 
song  or  their  happiness  went  far  beyond  all 
orderly  sound ;  they  squealed  as  they 
chased  each  other;  they  squealed  as  they 
dropped  twenty  sheer  feet  towards  the 
ground,  and  squealed  again  as  they  re 
covered  on  a  swoop,  and  as  they  climbed 
an  hundred  feet  in  three  swift  zig-zags, 
they  still  squealed  without  intermission, 
and  then  the  three  went  flickering  away 
to  the  west,  each  trying  to  bite  the  tail 
off  the  others. 

There  came  a  crow  whose  happiness  was 
so  intense  that  he  was  not  able  to  move ; 
he  stood  on  the  hedge  for  a  long  time,  and 
all  that  time  he  was  trying  hard  to  compose 
himself  to  a  gravity  befitting  the  father  of 
many  families,  but  every  few  seconds  he 
lost  all  control  and  bawled  with  fervour. 


36  THE   DEMI-GODS 

He  examined  himself  all  over ;  he  peeped 
under  his  feathers  to  see  was  his  complexion 
good;  he  parted  the  plumage  of  his  tail 
modishly ;  he  polished  his  feet  with  his 
bill,  and  then  polished  his  bill  on  his  left 
thigh,  and  then  he  polished  his  left  thigh 
with  the  back  of  his  neck.  "  I'm  a  hell  of  a 
crow,"  said  he,  "and  everybody  admits  it." 
He  flew  with  admirable  carelessness  over  the 
ass,  and  cleverly  stole  two  claws  and  one 
beak  full  of  hair ;  but  in  mid-air  he  laughed 
incautiously  so  that  the  hair  fell  out  of  his 
beak,  and  in  grabbing  at  that  portion  he 
dropped  the  bits  in  his  claws,  and  he  got  so 
excited  in  trying  to  rescue  these  before  they 
reached  the  ground  that  his  voice  covered 
all  the  other  sounds  of  creation. 

The  sun  was  shining;  the  trees  waved 
their  branches  in  delight ;  there  was  no 
longer  murk  or  coldness  in  the  air ;  it 
sparkled  from  every  point  like  a  vast  jewel, 
and  the  brisk  clouds  arraying  themselves  in 
fleeces  of  white  and  blue  raced  happily  aloft. 

That  was  what  the  angels  saw  when  they 


PATSY   MAC   CANN  37 

looked  abroad  ;  a  few  paces  distant  the  cart 
was  lying  with  its  shafts  up  in  the  air,  and  a 
tumble  of  miscellaneous  rubbish  was  hang 
ing  half  in  and  half  out  of  it ;  a  little  farther 
the  ass,  in  a  concentrated  manner,  was 
chopping  grass  as  quickly  as  ever  he  could, 
and,  naturally  enough,  eating  it ;  for  after 
thinking  deeply  we  eat,  and  it  is  true  wisdom 
to  do  so. 

The  eldest  of  the  angels  observed  the 
donkey.  He  stroked  his  beard. 

"One  eats  that  kind  of  vegetable/'  said 
he. 

The  others  observed  also. 

"And,"  that  angel  continued,  "the  time 
has  come  for  us  to  eat." 

The  second  eldest  angel  rolled  his  coal- 
black  chin  in  his  hand  and  his  gesture  and 
attitude  were  precisely  those  of  Patsy  Mac 
Cann. 

"I  am  certainly  hungry,"  said  he. 

He  picked  a  fistful  of  grass  and  thrust 
some  of  it  into  his  mouth,  but  after  a 
moment  of  difficulty  he  removed  it  again. 


38  THE   DEMI-GODS 

"It  is  soft  enough  to  eat/'  said  he  mus 
ingly,  "but  I  do  not  care  greatly  for  its 
taste." 

The  youngest  angel  made  a  suggestion. 

"Let  us  talk  to  the  girl,"  said  he. 

And  they  all  moved  over  to  Mary. 

"Daughter,"  said  the  eldest  of  the  three, 
"we  are  hungry,"  and  he  beamed  on  her  so 
contentedly  that  all  fear  and  diffidence  fled 
from  her  on  the  instant. 

She  replied : 

"  My  father  has  gone  down  the  road  look 
ing  for  food ;  he  will  be  coming  back  in  a 
minute  or  two,  and  he'll  be  bringing  every 
kind  of  thing  that's  nourishing." 

"While  we  are  waiting  for  him,"  said  the 
angel,  "let  us  sit  down  and  you  can  tell  us 
all  about  food." 

"  It  is  a  thing  we  ought  to  learn  at  once," 
said  the  second  angel. 

So  they  sat  in  a  half-circle  opposite  the 
girl,  and  requested  her  to  give  them  a  lecture 
on  food. 

She  thought  it  natural  they  should  require 


PATSY   MAC   CANN  39 

information  about  earthly  matters,  but  she 
found,  as  all  unpractised  speakers  do,  that 
she  did  not  know  at  what  point  to  begin  on 
her  subject.  Still,  something  had  to  be  said, 
for  two  of  them  were  stroking  their  beards, 
and  one  was  hugging  his  knees,  and  all 
three  were  gazing  at  her. 

"Everything,"  said  she,  "that  a  body  can 
eat  is  good  to  eat,  but  some  things  do  taste 
nicer  than  others  ;  potatoes  and  cabbage  are 
very  good  to  eat,  and  so  is  bacon;  my 
father  likes  bacon  when  it's  very  salt,  but 
I  don't  like  it  that  way  myself ;  bread  is  a 
good  thing  to  eat,  and  so  is  cheese." 

"What  do  you  call  this  vegetable  that  the 
animal  is  eating  ?  "  said  the  angel  pointing  to 
the  ass. 

"That  isn't  a  vegetable  at  all,  sir,  that's 
only  grass  ;  every  kind  of  animal  eats  it,  but 
Christians  don't." 

"  Is  it  not  good  to  eat  ?" 

"Sure,  I  don't  know.  Dogs  eat  it  when 
they  are  sick,  so  it  ought  to  be  wholesome, 
but  I  never  heard  tell  of  any  person  that  ate 


40  THE   DEMI-GODS 

grass  except  they  were  dying  of  the  hunger 
and  couldn't  help  themselves,  poor  crea 
tures  !  And  there  was  a  Jew  once  who  was 
a  king,  and  they  do  say  that  he  used  to  go 
out  with  the  cattle  and  eat  the  grass  like 
themselves,  and  nobody  says  that  he  didn't 
get  fat. 

"But  here's  my  father  coming  across  the 
fields  (which  is  a  queer  way  for  him  to  come, 
because  he  went  away  by  the  road),  and  I'm 
thinking  that  he  has  a  basket  under  his  arm 
and  there  will  be  food  in  it." 


CHAPTER  VII 

IT  was  true  enough.  Mac  Cann  was 
coming  to  them  from  a  point  at  right  angles 
to  where  he  was  expected. 

Now  and  again  he  turned  to  look  over 
his  shoulder,  and  as  he  was  taking  advan 
tage  of  dips  in  the  ground,  bushes,  and  such 
like  to  shield  his  advance  his  daughter 
divined  that  something  had  occurred  in 
addition  to  the  purchase  of  food.  She  had 
often  before  observed  her  father  moving 
with  these  precautionary  tactics,  and  had 
many  times  herself  shared  and  even  directed 
a  retreat  which  was  full  of  interest. 

When  her  father  drew  nigh  he  nodded 
meaningly  at  her,  set  down  a  basket  and  a 
bundle,  and  stood  for  a  moment  looking  at 
these  while  he  thumbed  his  chin. 

11  Faith  !"  said  he,  "the  world  is  full  of 
trouble,  and  that's  a  fact." 

41 


42  THE   DEMI-GODS 

He  turned  to  the  strangers. 

"And  I'm  telling  you  this,  that  if  the 
world  wasn't  full  of  trouble  there'd  be  no  life 
at  all  for  the  poor.  It's  the  only  chance  we 
get  is  when  people  are  full  of  woe,  God  help 
them  !  and  isn't  that  a  queer  thing  ? 

"Mary,"  he  turned,  and  his  voice  was 
full  of  careless  pride,  "try  if  there  isn't 
some  small  thing  or  other  in  the  basket, 
and  let  your  honours  sit  down  on  the 
grass  while  the  young  girl  is  getting  your 
breakfast." 

So  the  angels  and  Patsy  sat  down  peace 
fully  on  the  grass,  and  Mary  opened  the 
basket. 

There  were  two  loaves  of  bread  in  it,  a 
fine  square  of  butter,  a  piece  of  cheese  as  big 
as  a  man's  hand  and  four  times  as  thick ; 
there  was  a  leg  of  mutton  in  the  basket,  and 
only  a  little  bit  had  been  taken  off  it,  a  big 
paper  bag  full  of  tea,  a  package  of  soft  sugar, 
a  bottle  full  of  milk,  a  bottle  half  full  of 
whisky,  two  tobacco  pipes  having  silver 
bands  on  their  middles,  and  a  big  bar  of 


PATSY   MAC   CANN  43 

plug  tobacco.  Those  were  the  things  in  the 
basket. 

Mary's  eyes  and  her  mouth  opened  when 
she  saw  them,  and  she  blessed  herself, 
but  she  made  no  sound ;  and  when  she 
turned  her  face  towards  the  company 
there  was  no  expression  on  it  except  that  of 
hospitality. 

She  cut  slices  from  each  of  these  things 
and  piled  them  on  a  large  piece  of  paper  in 
the  centre  of  the  men ;  then  she  sat  herself 
down  and  they  all  prepared  to  eat. 

The  second  angel  turned  courteously  to 
Mac  Cann. 

"Will  you  kindly  begin  to  eat,"  said  he, 
"and  by  watching  you  we  will  know  what 
to  do." 

"There  can  be  nothing  more  uncomely," 
said  the  first  angel,  "than  to  see  people 
acting  in  disaccord  with  custom  ;  we  will  try 
to  do  exactly  as  you  do,  and  although  you 
may  be  troubled  by  our  awkwardness 
you  will  not  be  shocked  by  a  lapse  from 
sacred  tradition." 


44  THE   DEMI-GODS 

"  Well !"  said  Patsy  thoughtfully. 

He  stretched  a  hand  towards  the  food. 

"  I'll  stand  in  nobody's  light,  and  teaching 
people  is  God's  own  work  ;  this  is  the  way  I 
do  it,  your  worships,  and  any  one  that  likes 
can  follow  me  up." 

He  seized  two  pieces  of  bread,  placed  a 
slice  of  cheese  between  them,  and  bit  deeply 
into  that  trinity. 

The  strangers  followed  his  actions  with 
fidelity,  and  in  a  moment  their  mouths  were 
as  full  as  his  was  and  as  content. 

Patsy  paused  between  bites  : 

"When  I've  this  one  finished,"  said  he, 
"I'll  take  two  more  bits  of  bread  and  I'll  put 
a  lump  of  meat  between  them,  and  I'll  eat 
that." 

"Ah  !"  said  that  one  of  the  angels  whose 
mouth  chanced  to  be  free. 

Patsy's  eye  roved  over  the  rest  of  the 
food. 

"And  after  that,"  he  continued,  "we  will 
take  a  bit  of  whatever  is  handy." 

In  a  short  time  there  was  nothing  left  on 


PATSY   MAC   CANN  45 

the  newspaper  but  soft  sugar,  butter,  tea, 
and  tobacco.     Patsy  was  abashed. 

"I  did  think  that  there  was  more  than 
that,"  said  he. 

•'I've  had  enough  myself,"  he  continued, 
"but  maybe  your  honours  could  eat  more." 

Two  of  the  angels  assured  him  that  they 
were  quite  satisfied,  but  the  youngest  angel 
said  nothing. 

"I'm  doubting  that  you  had  enough," 
said  Patsy  dubiously  to  him. 

"I  could  eat  more  if  I  had  it,"  returned 
that  one  with  a  smile. 

Mary  went  to  the  cart  and  returned  bear 
ing  two  cold  potatoes  and  a  piece  of  bread, 
and  she  placed  these  before  the  young  angel. 
He  thanked  her  and  ate  these,  and  then  he 
ate  the  package  of  soft  sugar,  and  then  he 
ate  a  little  piece  of  the  butter,  but  he  didn't 
care  for  it.  He  pointed  to  the  plug  of 
tobacco : 

"Does  this  be  eaten?"  he  enquired. 

"It  does  not,"  said  Patsy.  " If  you  ate  a 
bit  of  that  you'd  get  a  pain  inside  of  your 


46  THE   DEMI-GODS 

belly  that  would  last  you  for  a  month. 
There's  some  people  do  smoke  it,  and  there's 
others  do  chew  it ;  but  I  smoke  it  and  chew 
it  myself,  and  that's  the  best  way.  There's 
two  pipes  there  on  the  paper,  and  I've  a  pipe 
in  my  own  pocket,  so  whichever  of  you 
would  like  a  smoke  can  do  exactly  as  I  do." 

With  a  big  jack-knife  he  shredded  pieces 
from  the  plug,  and  rolled  these  between  his 
palms,  then  he  carefully  stuffed  his  pipe, 
pulled  at  it  to  see  was  it  drawing  well,  lit  the 
tobacco,  and  heaved  a  sigh  of  contentment. 
He  smiled  around  the  circle. 

''That's  real  good,"  said  he. 

The  strangers  examined  the  pipes  and 
tobacco  with  curiosity,  but  they  did  not 
venture  to  smoke,  and  they  watched  Patsy's 
beatific  face  with  kindly  attention. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

Now  at  this  moment  Mary  was  devoured 
with  curiosity.  She  wanted  to  know  how 
her  father  had  become  possessed  of  the 
basketful  of  provisions.  She  knew  that 
three  shillings  would  not  have  purchased  a 
tithe  of  these  goods,  and,  as  she  had  now  no 
fear  of  the  strangers,  she  questioned  her 
parent. 

"Father,"  said  she,  " where  did  you  get 
all  the  good  food  ?" 

The  angels  had  eaten  of  his  bounty,  so 
Mac  Cann  considered  that  he  had  nothing  to 
fear  from  their  side.  He  regarded  them 
while  he  pulled  thoughtfully  at  his  pipe. 

"Do  you  know,"  said  he,  "that  the 
hardest  thing  in  the  world  is  to  get  the  food, 
and  a  body  is  never  done  looking  for  it.  We 
are  after  eating  all  that  we  got  this  morning, 
so  now  we'll  have  to  search  for  what  we'll 

47 


48  THE   DEMI-GODS 

eat  to-night,  and  in  the  morning  we'll 
have  to  look  again  for  more  of  it,  and  the  day 
after  that,  and  every  day  until  we  are  dead 
we'll  have  to  go  on  searching  for  the  food," 

11 1  would  have  thought,"  said  the  eldest 
angel,  "that  of  all  problems  food  would  be 
the  simplest  in  an  organised  society." 

This  halted  Mac  Cann  for  a  moment. 

"  Maybe  you're  right,  sir,"  said  he  kindly, 
and  he  dismissed  the  interruption. 

"I  heard  a  man  once,  he  was  a  stranger 
to  these  parts,  and  he  had  a  great  deal  of  the 
talk,  he  said  that  the  folk  at  the  top  do  grab 
all  the  food  in  the  world,  and  that  then  they 
make  every  person  work  for  them,  and  that 
when  you've  done  a  certain  amount  of  work 
they  give  you  just  enough  money  to  buy  just 
enough  food  to  let  you  keep  on  working  for 
them.  That's  what  the  man  said :  a  big, 
angry  man  he  was,  with  whiskers  on  him 
like  the  whirlwind,  and  he  swore  he  wouldn't 
work  for  any  one.  I'm  thinking  myself 
that  he  didn't  work  either.  We  were  great 
friends,  that  man  and  me,  for  I  don't  do  any 


PATSY   MAC   CANN  49 

work  if  I  can  help  it ;  it's  that  I  haven't 
got  the  knack  for  work,  and,  God  help  me  ! 
I've  a  big  appetite.  Besides  that,  the  work 
I'd  be  able  to  do  in  a  day  mightn't  give  me 
enough  to  eat,  and  wouldn't  I  be  cheated 
then?" 

"Father,"  said  Mary,  "where  did  you 
get  all  the  good  food  this  morning  ?  " 

"I'll  tell  you  that.  I  went  down  to  the 
bend  of  the  road  where  the  house  is,  and  I 
had  the  three  shillings  in  my  hand.  When  I 
came  to  the  house  the  door  was  standing 
wide  open.  I  hit  it  a  thump  of  my  fist,  but 
nobody  answered  me.  'God  be  with  all 
here,'  said  I,  and  in  I  marched.  There  was 
a  woman  lying  on  the  floor  in  one  room,  and 
her  head  had  been  cracked  with  a  stick ; 
and  in  the  next  room  there  was  a  man  lying 
on  the  floor,  and  his  head  had  been  cracked 
with  a  stick.  It  was  in  that  room  I  saw 
the  food  packed  nice  and  tight  in  the  basket 
"/that  you  see  before  you.  I  looked  around 
another  little  bit,  and  then  I  came  away,  for, 
as  they  say,  a  wise  man  never  found  a  dead 

£ 


50  THE   DEMI-GODS 

man,  and  I'm  wise  enough  no  matter  what 
I  look  like." 

''Were  the  people  all  dead  ?"  said  Mary, 
horrified. 

"  They  were  not  —  they  only  got  a  couple 
of  clouts.  I'm  thinking  they  are  all  right 
by  this,  and  they  looking  for  the  basket,  but, 
please  God,  they  won't  find  it.  But  what 
I'd  like  to  know  is  this,  who  was  it  hit  the 
people  with  a  stick,  and  then  walked  away 
without  the  food  and  the  drink  and  the 
tobacco,  for  that's  a  queer  thing." 

He  turned  to  his  daughter. 

"Mary,  a  cree,  let  you  burn  up  that 
basket  in  the  brazier,  for  I  don't  like  the 
look  of  it  at  all,  and  it  empty." 

So  Mary  burned  the  basket  with  great 
care  while  her  father  piled  their  goods  on 
the  cart  and  yoked  up  the  ass. 

Meanwhile  the  angels  were  talking  to 
gether,  and  after  a  short  time  they  ap 
proached  Mac  Cann. 

"If  it  is  not  inconvenient,"  said  their 
spokesman,  "we  would  like  to  remain  with 


PATSY   MAC   CANN  51 

you  for  a  time.  We  think  that  in  your 
company  we  may  learn  more  than  we  might 
otherwise  do,  for  you  seem  to  be  a  man  of 
ability,  and  at  present  we  are  rather  lost  in 
this  strange  world." 

"Sure,"  said  Patsy  heartily,  "I  haven't 
the  least  objection  in  the  world,  only,  if  you 
don't  want  to  be  getting  into  trouble,  and  if 
you'll  take  my  advice,  I'd  say  that  ye  ought 
to  take  off  them  kinds  of  clothes  you're 
wearing  and  get  into  duds  something  like 
my  own,  and  let  you  put  your  wings  aside 
and  your  fine  high  crowns,  the  way  folk 
won't  be  staring  at  you  every  foot  of  the 
road,  for  I'm  telling  you  that  it's  a  bad  thing 
to  have  people  looking  after  you  when  you 
go  through  a  little  village  or  a  town,  because 
you  can  never  know  who'll  remember  you 
afterwards,  and  you  maybe  not  wanting 
to  be  remembered  at  all." 

"If  our  attire,"  said  the  angel,  "is  such  as 
would  make  us  remarkable " 


11  It    is,"    said    Patsy.     "People    would 
think  you  belonged  to  a  circus,   and  the 


52  THE   DEMI-GODS 

crowds  of  the  world  would  be  after  you  in 
every  place." 

"Then,"  replied  the  angel,  uwe  will  do  as 
you  say." 

"I  have  clothes  enough  in  this  bundle," 
said  Patsy,  with  a  vague  air.  "I  found 
them  up  there  in  the  house,  and  I  was  think 
ing  of  yourselves  when  I  took  them.  Let 
you  put  them  on,  and  we  will  tie  up  your 
own  things  in  a  sack  and  bury  them  here  so 
that  when  you  want  them  again  you'll  be 
able  to  get  them,  and  then  we  can  travel 
wherever  we  please  and  no  person  will  say  a 
word  to  us." 

So  the  strangers  retired  a  little  way  with 
the  bundle,  and  there  they  shed  their  finery. 

When  they  appeared  again  they  were  clad 
in  stout,  ordinary  clothing.  They  did  not 
look  a  bit  different  from  Patsy  Mac  Cann 
except  that  they  were  all  taller  men  than  he, 
but  between  his  dilapidation  and  theirs  there 
was  very  little  to  choose. 

Mac  Cann  dug  a  hole  beside  a  tree  and 
carefully  buried  their  property,  then  with  a 


PATSY   MAC  CANN  53 

thoughtful  air  he  bade  Mary  move  ahead 
with  the  ass,  while  he  and  the  angels  stepped 
forward  at  the  tailboard. 

They  walked  then  through  the  morning 
sunlight,  and  for  a  time  they  had  little  to  say 
to  each  other. 


CHAPTER  IX 

IN  truth  Patsy  Mac  Cann  was  a  very  able 
person. 

For  forty-two  years  he  had  existed  on  the 
edges  of  a  society  which  did  not  recognise 
him  in  any  way,  and,  as  he  might  himself 
have  put  it,  he  had  not  done  so  very  badly 
at  all. 

He  lived  as  a  bird  lives,  or  a  fish,  or  a 
wolf.  Laws  were  for  other  people,  but  they 
were  not  for  him ;  he  crawled  under  or 
vaulted  across  these  ethical  barriers,  and 
they  troubled  him  no  more  than  as  he  had 
to  bend  or  climb  a  little  to  avoid  them  —  he 
discerned  laws  as  something  to  be  avoided, 
and  it  was  thus  he  saw  most  things. 

Religion  and  morality,  although  he  paid 
these  an  extraordinary  reverence,  were  not 
for  him  either ;  he  beheld  them  from  afar, 
and,  however  they  might  seem  beautiful  or 

54 


PATSY   MAC  CANN  55 

foolish,  he  left  them  behind  as  readily  as 
he  did  his  debts,  if  so  weighty  a  description 
may  be  given  to  his  volatile  engagements. 
He  did  not  discharge  these  engagements ; 
he  elongated  himself  from  them ;  between 
himself  and  a  query  he  interposed  distance, 
and  at  once  that  became  foreign  to  him,  for 
half  a  mile  about  himself  was  his  frontier, 
and  beyond  that,  wherever  he  was,  the 
enemy  lay. 

He  stood  outside  of  every  social  relation, 
and  within  an  organised  humanity  he  might 
almost  have  been  reckoned  as  a  different 
species.  He  was  very  mobile,  but  all  his 
freedom  lay  in  one  direction,  and  outside  of 
that  pasturage  he  could  never  go.  For  the 
average  man  there  are  two  dimensions  of 
space  wherein  he  moves  with  a  certain 
limited  freedom ;  it  is  for  him  a  horizontal 
and  a  perpendicular  world ;  he  goes  up  the 
social  scale  and  down  it,  and  in  both  these 
*\r  atmospheres  there  is  a  level  wherein  he  can 
exercise  himself  to  and  fro,  his  journeyings 
being  strictly  limited  by  his  business  and  his 


56  THE   DEMI-GODS 

family.  Between  the  place  where  he  works 
and  the  place  where  he  lives  lies  all  the  free 
dom  he  can  hope  for  ;  within  that  range  he 
must  seek  such  adventures  as  he  craves, 
and  the  sole  expansion  to  which  he  can  at 
tain  is  upwards  towards  another  social  life 
if  he  be  ambitious,  or  downward  to  the  under 
worlds  if  he  is  bored.  For  Mac  Cann  there 
was  no  upward  and  no  downward  move 
ments,  he  had  plumbed  to  the  very  rocks  of 
life,  but  his  horizontal  movements  were 
bounded  only  by  the  oceans  around  his 
country,  and  in  this  gigantic  underworld  he 
moved  with  almost  absolute  freedom,  and  a 
knowledge  which  might  properly  be  termed 
scientific. 

In  despite  of  his  apparent  outlawry  he  was 
singularly  secure  ;  ambition  waved  no  littlest 
lamp  at  him ;  the  one  ill  which  could  over 
take  him  was  death,  which  catches  on  every 
man ;  no  enmity  could  pursue  him  to  any 
wall,  for  he  was  sunken  a  whole  sphere 
beneath  malice  as  beneath  benevolence. 
Physical  ill-treatment  might  come  upon 


PATSY  MAC  CANN  57 

him,  but  in  that  case  it  was  his  manhood  and 
his  muscle  against  another  manhood  and 
another  muscle  —  the  simplest  best  would 
win,  but  there  was  no  glory  for  the  con 
queror  nor  any  loot  to  be  carried  from  the 
battle. 

Casual  warfares,  such  as  these,  had  been 
frequent  enough  in  his  career,  for  he  had 
fought  stubbornly  with  every  kind  of  man, 
and  had  afterwards  medicined  his  wounds 
with  the  only  unguents  cheap  enough  for 
his  usage  —  the  healing  balsams  of  time  and 
patience.  He  had  but  one  occupation,  and 
it  was  an  engrossing  one  —  he  hunted  for 
food,  and  for  it  he  hunted  with  the  skill  and 
pertinacity  of  a  wolf  or  a  vulture. 

With  what  skill  he  did  hunt !  He  would 
pick  crumbs  from  the  lank  chaps  of  famine  ; 
he  gathered  nourishment  from  the  empty  air ; 
he  lifted  it  from  wells  and  watercourses ;  he 
picked  it  off  clothes  lines  and  hedges;  he 
stole  so  cleverly  from  the  bees  that  they 
never  felt  his  hand  in  their  pocket;  he 
would  lift  the  eggs  from  beneath  a  bird,  and 


58  THE   DEMI-GODS 

she  would  think  that  his  finger  was  a  chicken  ; 
he  would  clutch  a  hen  from  the  roost,  and 
the  housewife  would  think  he  was  the  yard 
dog,  and  the  yard  dog  would  think  he  was 
its  brother. 

He  had  a  culture  too,  and  if  it  was  not 
wide  it  was  profound ;  he  knew  wind  and 
weather  as  few  astronomers  know  it ;  he 
knew  the  habit  of  the  trees  and  the  earth ; 
how  the  seasons  moved,  not  as  seasons,  but 
as  days  and  hours  ;  he  had  gathered  all  the 
sweets  of  summer,  and  the  last  rigour  of 
winter  was  no  secret  to  him  ;  he  had  fought 
with  the  winter  every  year  of  his  life  as  one 
fights  with  a  mad  beast,  he  had  held  off 
that  grizzliest  of  muzzles  and  escaped 
scatheless. 

He  knew  men  and  women,  and  he  knew 
them  from  an  angle  at  which  they  seldom 
caught  themselves  or  each  other ;  he  knew 
them  as  prey  to  be  bitten  and  escaped  from 
quickly.  At  them,  charged  with  a  thousand 
preoccupations,  he  looked  with  an  eye  in 
which  there  was  a  single  surmise,  and  he 


PATSY   MAC   CANN  59 

divined  them  in  a  flash.  In  this  quick 
vision  he  saw  man,  one  expression,  one 
attitude  for  all ;  never  did  he  see  a  man  or 
woman  in  their  fullness,  his  microscopic 
vision  caught  only  what  it  looked  for,  but 
he  saw  that  with  the  instant  clarity  of  the 
microscope.  There  were  no  complexities 
for  him  in  humanity ;  there  were  those 
who  gave  and  those  who  did  not  give ; 
there  were  those  who  might  be  cajoled,  and 
those  who  might  be  frightened.  If  there 
was  goodness  in  a  man  he  glimpsed  it 
from  afar  as  a  hawk  sees  a  mouse  in  the 
clover,  and  he  swooped  on  that  virtue  and 
was  away  with  booty.  If  there  was  evil  in  a 
man  he  passed  it  serenely  as  a  sheep  passes 
by  a  butcher,  for  evil  did  not  affect  him. 
Evil  could  never  put  a  hand  on  him,  and 
he  was  not  evil  himself. 

If  the  denominations  of  virtue  or  vice 
must  be  affixed  to  his  innocent  existence, 
then  these  terms  would  have  to  be  re-defined, 
for  they  had  no  meaning  in  his  case ;  he 
stood  outside  these  as  he  did  outside  of 


6o  THE   DEMI-GODS 

the  social  structure.  But,  indeed,  he  was 
not  outside  of  the  social  structure  at  all ; 
he  was  so  far  inside  of  it  that  he  could 
never  get  out ;  he  was  at  the  very  heart  of 
it ;  he  was  held  in  it  like  a  deer  in  an  orna 
mental  park,  or  a  cork  that  bobs  peacefully 
in  a  bucket,  and  in  the  immense,  neglected 
pastures  of  civilisation  he  found  his  own 
quietude  and  his  own  wisdom. 

All  of  the  things  he  knew  and  all  of  the 
things  that  he  had  done  were  most  com 
petently  understood  by  his  daughter. 


CHAPTER  X 

IT  is  to  be  remarked  that  the  angels  were 
strangely  like  Patsy  Mac  Cann.  Their  ideas 
of  right  and  wrong  almost  entirely  coincided 
with  his.  They  had  no  property  and  so 
they  had  no  prejudices,  for  the  person  who 
has  nothing  may  look  upon  the  world  as  his 
inheritance,  while  the  person  who  has  some 
thing  has  seldom  anything  but  that. 

Civilisation,  having  built  itself  at  hazard 
upon  the  Rights  of  Property,  has  sought  on 
many  occasions  to  unbuild  itself  again  in 
sheer  desperation  of  any  advance,  but  from 
the  great  Ethic  of  Possession  there  never  has 
been  any  escape,  and  there  never  will  be 
until  the  solidarity  of  man  has  been  really 
created,  and  until  each  man  ceases  to  see 
the  wolf  in  his  neighbour. 

Is  there  actually  a  wolf  in  our  neighbour  ? 
We  see  that  which  we  are,  and  our  eyes  pro- 
ex 


62  THE   DEMI-GODS 

ject  on  every  side  an  image  of  ourselves  ;  if 
we  look  with  fear  that  which  we  behold  is 
frightful ;  if  we  look  with  love  then  the 
colours  of  heaven  are  repeated  to  us  from  the 
ditch  and  the  dungeon.  We  invent  eter 
nally  upon  one  another  ;  we  scatter  our  sins 
broadcast  and  call  them  our  neighbours; 
let  us  scatter  our  virtues  abroad  and  build 
us  a  city  to  live  in. 

For  Mac  Cann  and  his  daughter  there 
was  no  longer  any  strangeness  in  their  com 
panions.  As  day  and  night  succeeded,  as 
conversation  and  action  supplemented  each 
other  on  their  journeys,  so  each  of  them  be 
gan  to  unfold  from  the  fleshy  disguise,  and 
in  a  short  time  they  could  each  have  spoken 
of  the  others  to  an  inquiring  stranger,  giving, 
within  bounds,  reasonably  exact  informa 
tion  as  to  habit  and  mentality. 

What  conversations  they  had  engaged  in  ! 
Sitting  now  by  a  hedge  close  to  a  tiny  cha 
otic  village,  compact  of  ugliness  and  stupid 
ity,  now  at  twilight  as  they  camped  in  a 
disused  quarry,  leaning  their  shoulders 


PATSY  MAC   CANN  63 

against  great  splintered  rocks,  and  hearing 
no  sound  but  the  magnified,  slow  trickle  of 
water  and  the  breeze  that  sung  or  screamed 
against  a  razor  edge  of  rock  ;  or  lying  on  the 
sheltered  side  of  a  pit  of  potatoes,  they 
stared  at  the  moon  as  she  sailed  on  her 
lonely  voyages,  or  watched  the  stars  that 
glanced  and  shone  from  the  drifting  clouds  ; 
and  as  they  lifted  their  eyes  to  these  sacred 
voyagers  in  whose  charge  is  the  destiny  of 
man  they  lifted  their  minds  also  and  adored 
mutely  that  mind  of  which  these  are  the 
thoughts  made  visible. 

Sometimes  they  discussed  the  problems 
of  man  in  a  thousand  superficial  relation 
ships.  The  angels  were  wise,  but  in  the 
vocabulary  which  they  had  to  use  wisdom 
had  no  terms.  Their  wisdom  referred  only 
to  ultimates,  and  was  the  unhandiest  of  tools 
when  dug  into  some  immediate,  curious 
problem.  Before  wisdom  can  be  audible  a 
new  language  must  be  invented,  and  they 
also  had  to  unshape  their  definitions  and 
re-translate  these  secular  findings  into  terms 


64  THE   DEMI-GODS 

wherein  they  could  see  the  subject  broadly, 
and  they  found  that  what  they  gained  in 
breadth  they  lost  in  outline,  and  that  the 
last  generalisation,  however  logically  it  was 
framed,  was  seldom  more  than  an  intensely 
interesting  lie  when  it  was  dissected  again. 
No  truth  in  regard  to  space  and  time  can 
retain  virtue  for  longer  than  the  beating  of 
an  artery ;  it  too  has  its  succession,  its 
sidereal  tide,  and  while  you  look  upon  it, 
round  and  hardy  as  a  pebble,  behold,  it  is 
split  and  fissured  and  transformed. 

Sometimes  when  it  rained,  and  it  rained 
often,  they  would  seek  refuge  in  a  haystack, 
if  one  was  handy  ;  or  they  would  creep  into 
a  barn  and  hide  behind  hills  of  cabbages  or 
piles  of  farming  tools ;  or  they  slid  into  the 
sheds  among  the  cattle  where  they  warmed 
and  fed  themselves  against  those  peaceful 
flanks  ;  or,  if  they  were  nigh  a  town  and  had 
been  lucky  that  day,  they  would  pay  a  few 
coppers  to  sleep  on  the  well-trodden,  earthen 
floor  of  a  house. 

As  for  the  ass,  he  slept  wherever  he  could. 


PATSY   MAC   CANN  65 

When  there  was  rain  he  would  stand  with  his 
tail  against  the  wind  sunken  in  a  reverie  so 
profound  that  he  no  longer  seemed  to  feel 
the  rain  or  the  wind.  From  these  abysses 
of  thought  he  would  emerge  to  the  realisa 
tion  that  there  was  a  sheltered  side  to  a 
wall  or  a  clump  of  heather,  and  he  also 
would  take  his  timely  rest  under  the  stars 
of  God. 

What  did  they  say  to  him  ?  Down  the 
glittering  slopes  they  peer  and  nod  ;  before 
his  eyes  the  mighty  pageant  is  unrolled  in 
quiet  splendour ;  for  him  too  the  signs  are 
set.  Does  the  Waterman  care  nothing  for 
his  thirst  ?  Does  the  Ram  not  bless  his 
increase  ?  Against  his  enemies  also  the 
Archer  will  bend  his  azure  bow  and  loose 
his  arrows  of  burning  gold. 

On  their  journeyings  they  met  with  many 
people;  not  the  folk  who  lived  in  the 
houses  dotted  here  and  there  at  great  dis 
tances  from  each  other  on  the  curving 
roads,  for  with  these  people  they  had  noth 
ing  to  do,  they  had  scarcely  anything  to 


66  THE   DEMI-GODS 

say,  and  the  housefolk  looked  on  the 
strollers  with  a  suspicion  which  was  almost 
a  fear.  The  language  of  these  was  seldom 
gracious,  and  often,  on  their  approach,  the 
man  of  the  house  was  sent  for  and  the  dog 
was  unchained. 

But  for  the  vagabonds  these  people  did 
not  count ;  Mac  Cann  and  his  daughter 
scarcely  looked  on  them  as  human  beings, 
and  if  he  had  generalised  about  them  at 
all,  he  would  have  said  that  there  was  no 
difference  between  these  folk  and  the  trees 
that  shaded  their  dwellings  in  leafy  spray, 
that  they  were  rooted  in  their  houses,  and 
that  they  had  no  idea  of  life  other  than  the 
trees  might  have  which  snuff  for  ever  the 
same  atmosphere  and  look  on  the  same 
horizon  until  they  droop  again  to  the  clay 
they  lifted  from. 

It  was  with  quite  other  people  they  com 
muned. 

The  wandering  ballad  singer  with  his 
wallet  of  songs  slung  at  his  ragged  haunch ; 
the  travelling  musician  whose  blotchy  fiddle 


PATSY   MAC   CANN  67 

could  sneeze  out  the  ten  strange  tunes  he 
had  learned  from  his  father  and  from  his 
father's  generations  before  him;  the  little 
band  travelling  the  world  carrying  saplings 
and  rushes  from  the  stream  which  they 
wove  cunningly  into  tables  and  chairs 
warranted  not  to  last  too  long;  the  folk 
who  sold  rootless  ferns  to  people  from  whose 
window-ledges  they  had  previously  stolen 
the  pots  to  plant  them  in ;  the  men  who 
went  roaring  along  the  roads  driving  the 
cattle  before  them  from  fair  to  market  and 
back  again ;  the  hairy  tinkers  with  their 
clattering  metals,  who  marched  in  the 
angriest  of  battalions  and  who  spoke  a 
language  composed  entirely  of  curses. 

These,  and  an  hundred  varieties  of  these, 
they  met  and  camped  with  and  were  friendly 
with,  and  to  the  angels  these  people  were 
humanity,  and  the  others  were,  they  did  not 
know  what. 


CHAPTER  XI 

IT  might  be  asked  why  Patsy  Mac  Cann 
permitted  the  strangers  to  remain  with  him. 

Now  that  they  were  dressed  like  himself 
he  had  quite  forgotten,  or  he  never  thought 
of  their  celestial  character,  and  they  were 
undoubtedly  a  burden  upon  his  ingenuity. 
They  ate  as  vigorously  as  he  did,  and  the 
food  which  they  ate  he  had  to  supply. 

There  were  two  reasons  for  this  kindliness 
—  He  had  always  wished  to  be  the  leader  of 
a  troop.  In  his  soul  the  Ancient  Patriarch 
was  alive  and  ambitious  of  leadership.  Had 
his  wife  given  him  more  children  he  would 
have  formed  them  and  their  wives  and 
children  into  a  band,  and  the  affairs  of  this 
little  world  would  have  been  directed  by 
him  with  pride  and  pleasure.  He  would 
have  observed  their  goings-out  and  their 
comings-in ;  he  would  have  apportioned 

68 


PATSY   MAC   CANN  69 

praise  and  reproach  to  his  little  clann ;  he 
would  have  instructed  them  upon  a  multi 
tude  of  things,  and  passed  on  to  them  the 
culture  which  he  had  gathered  so  hardily, 
and,  when  they  arrived  at  the  age  of  in 
genuity,  it  would  have  still  been  his  ambi 
tion  to  dash  their  arguments  with  his 
superior  knowledge,  or  put  the  happy 
finish  to  any  plan  which  they  submitted  for 
his  approval ;  he  would  have  taken  the 
road,  like  a  prince  of  old,  with  his  tail,  and 
he  would  have  undertaken  such  raids  and 
forays  that  his  name  and  fame  would  ring 
through  the  underworld  like  the  note  of  a 
trumpet. 

He  could  not  do  this  because  he  only 
had  one  child  (the  others  had  died  wintry 
deaths)  and  she  was  a  girl.  But  now  heaven 
itself  had  blessed  him  with  a  following  and 
he  led  it  with  skill  and  enjoyment.  Further 
more,  his  daughter,  of  whom  he  stood  in 
considerable  awe,  had  refused  flatly  to  desert 
the  strangers  whom  Providence  had  directed 
to  them. 


70  THE   DEMI-GODS 

She  had  constituted  herself  in  some 
strange  way  the  mother  of  the  four  men. 
She  cooked  for  them,  she  washed  and 
mended  for  them,  and,  when  the  necessity 
arose,  she  scolded  them  with  the  heartiest 
good-will. 

Her  childhood  had  known  nothing  of  dolls, 
and  so  her  youth,  made  dolls  of  these  men 
whom  she  dressed  and  fed.  Sometimes  her 
existence  with  them  was  peaceful  and  happy ; 
at  other  times  she  almost  went  mad  with 
jealous  rage.  Little  by  little  she  began  to 
demand  a  domestic  obedience  which  they 
very  willingly  gave  her ;  so  they  were  her 
men  and  no  one  else's,  and  the  exercise  of 
this  power  gave  her  a  delight  such  as  she 
had  never  known. 

She  was  wise  also,  for  it  was  only  in  do 
mestic  affairs  that  she  claimed  their  fealty ; 
with  their  masculine  movements  she  did 
not  interfere,  nor  did  she  interfere  with  the 
task  and  apportioning  of  the  day,  although 
her  counsel  was  willingly  listened  to  in  these 
matters ;  but  when  night  came,  when  the 


PATSY  MAC  CANN  71 

camp  was  selected,  the  little  cart  unloaded, 
and  the  brazier  lit,  then  she  stepped  briskly 
to  her  kingdom  and  ruled  like  a  chief tainess. 
With  her  father  she  often  had  trouble : 
he  would  capitulate  at  the  end,  but  not  until 
he  had  set  forth  at  length  his  distaste  for  her 
suggestions  and  his  assurance  that  she  was  a 
strap.  She  seldom  treated  him  as  a  father, 
for  she  seldom  remembered  that  relation 
ship  ;  she  loved  him  as  one  loves  a  younger 
brother,  and  she  was  angry  with  him  as  one 
can  only  be  angry  with  a  younger  brother. 
Usually  she  treated  him  as  an  infant ;  she 
adored  him,  and,  if  he  had  permitted  it,  she 
would  have  beaten  him  soundly  oh  many 
an  occasion. 

„  For  she  was  a  strong  girl.  She  was  big  in 
build  and  bone,  and  she  was  beautiful  and 
fearless.  Framed  in  a  rusty  shawl  her  face 
leaped  out  instant  and  catching  as  a  torch  in 
darkness ;  under  her  clumsy  garments  one 
<r  divined  a  body  to  be  adored  as  a  revelation  ; 
she  walked  carelessly  as  the  wind  walks, 
proudly  as  a  young  queen  trained  in 


72  THE   DEMI-GODS 

grandeur.  She  could  leap  from  where  she 
stood,  as  a  wild-cat  that  springs  terribly 
from  quietude;  she  could  run  as  a  deer 
runs,  and  pause  at  full  flight  like  a  carven 
statue.  Each  movement  of  hers  was  com 
plete  and  lovely  in  itself ;  when  she  lifted  a 
hand  to  her  hair  the  free  attitude  was  a 
marvel  of  composure  ;  it  might  never  have 
begun,  and  might  never  cease,  it  was  soli 
tary  and  perfect ;  when  she  bent  to  the 
brazier  she  folded  to  such  an  economy  of 
content  that  one  might  have  thought  her 
half  her  size  and  yet  perfect ;  she  had  that 
beauty  which  raises  the  mind  of  man  to  an 
ecstasy  which  is  murderous  if  it  be  not 
artistic ;  and  she  was  so  conscious  of  her 
loveliness  that  she  could  afford  to  forget  it, 
and  so  careless  that  she  had  never  yet  used 
it  as  a  weapon  or  a  plea. 

She  could  not  but  be  aware  of  her  beauty, 
for  her  mirrors  had  tongues  ;  they  were  the 
eyes  of  those  she  met  and  paused  with.  No 
man  had  yet  said  anything  to  her,  saving  in 
rough  jest  as  to  a  child,  but  no  woman  could 


PATSY   MAC   CANN  73 

speak  of  anything  else  in  her  presence,  and 
these  exclamations  drummed  through  all 
their  talk. 

She  had  been  worshipped  by  many  women, 
for  to  physical  loveliness  in  their  own  sex 
women  are  the  veriest  slaves.  They  will  love 
a  man  for  his  beauty,  but  a  woman  they  will 
adore  as  a  singularity,  as  something  almost 
too  good  to  be  true,  as  something  which  may 
vanish  even  while  they  gaze  at  it.  Pretti- 
ness  they  understand  and  like  or  antag 
onise,  but  they  have  credited  beauty  as  a 
masculine  trait ;  and  as  a  race  long  sunken 
in  slavery,  and  who  look  almost  despair 
ingly  for  a  saviour,  so  the  female  conscious 
ness  prostrates  itself  before  female  beauty 
as  before  a  messiah  who  will  lead  them  to 
the  unconscious  horrible  ambitions  which 
are  the  goal  of  femininity.  But,  and  it  is 
humanity's  guard  against  a  solitary  devel 
opment,  while  women  worship  a  beautiful 
woman  the  beauty  does  not  care  for  them ; 
she  accepts  their  homage  and  flies  them  as 
one  flies  from  the  deadliest  boredom;  she 


74  THE   DEMI-GODS 

is  the  widest  swing  of  their  pendulum,  and 
must  hurry  again  from  the  circumference 
to  the  centre  with  the  violent  speed  of  an 
outcast  who  sees  from  afar  the  smoke  of  his 
father's  house  and  the  sacred  roof -tree. 

There  is  a  steadying  influence ;  an  irre 
concilable  desire  and  ambition;  the  desire 
of  every  woman  to  be  the  wife  of  a  fool,  her 
ambition  to  be  the  mother  of  a  genius ;  but 
they  postulate  genius,  it  is  their  outlet  and 
their  justification  for  that  leap  at  a  tangent 
which  they  have  already  taken. 

Out  there  they  have  discovered  the 
Neuter.  Is  the  Genius  always  to  be  born 
from  an  unfertilised  womb,  or  rather  a 
self -fertilised  one  ?  Singular  Messiahs  ! 
scorners  of  paternity !  claiming  no  less 
than  the  Cosmos  for  a  father  ;  taking  from 
the  solitary  mother  capacity  for  infinite 
suffering  and  infinite  love,  whence  did  ye 
gather  the  rough  masculine  intellect,  the 
single  eye,  all  that  hardiness  of  courage  and 
sensibility  of  self  that  made  of  your  souls  a 
battlefield,  and  of  your  memory  a  terror  to 


PATSY   MAC   CANN  75 

drown  love  under  torrents  of  horrid  red  ! 
Deluded  so  far  and  mocked  !  No  genius  has 
yet  sprung  from  ye  but  the  Genius  of  War 
and  Destruction,  those  frowning  captains 
that  have  ravaged  our  vineyards  and  black 
ened  our  generations  with  the  torches  of 
their  egotism. 

To  woman  beauty  is  energy,  and  they 
would  gladly  take  from  their  own  sex  that 
which  they  have  so  long  accepted  from  man. 
They  are  economical ;  the  ants  and  the  bees 
are  not  more  amazingly  parsimonious  than 
they,  and,  like  the  ants  and  the  bees,  their 
subsequent  extravagance  is  a  thing  to 
marvel  at.  Food  and  children  they  will 
hoard,  and  when  these  are  safeguarded  their 
attitude  to  the  life  about  them  is  ruinous. 
They  will  adorn  themselves  at  the  expense 
of  all  creation,  and  in  a  few  years  they  crush 
from  teeming  life  a  species  which  nature 
has  toiled  through  laborious  ages  to  per 
fect.  They  adorn  themselves,  and  too 
often  adornment  is  the  chief  manifestation 
of  boredom.  They  are  world-weary,  sex- 


76  THE   DEMI-GODS 

weary,  and  they  do  not  know  what  they 
want;  but  they  want  power,  so  that 
they  may  rule  evolution  once  more  as  long 
ago  they  ruled  it ;  their  blood  remembers  an 
ancient  greatness ;  they  crave  to  be  the 
queens  again,  to  hold  the  sceptre  of  life  in 
their  cruel  hands,  to  break  up  the  mould 
which  has  grown  too  rigid  for  freedom,  to 
form  anew  the  chaos  which  is  a  womb,  and 
which  they  conceive  is  their  womb,  and  to 
create  therein  beauty  and  freedom  and 
power.  But  the  king  whom  they  have 
placed  on  the  throne  has  grown  wise  in 
watching  them ;  he  is  their  bone  terribly 
separated,  terribly  endowed ;  he  uses  their 
cruelty,  their  fierceness,  as  his  armies  against 
them  —  and  so  the  battle  is  set,  and  wild 
deeds  may  flare  from  the  stars  of  rebellion 
and  prophecy. 

Mary,  who  could  make  women  do  any 
thing  for  her,  was  entirely  interested  in 
making  men  bow  to  her  will,  and  because, 
almost  against  her  expectation  they  did 
bow,  she  loved  them,  and  could  not  sacri- 


PATSY   MAC   CANN  77 

fice  herself  too  much  for  their  comfort  or 
even  their  caprice.  It  was  the  mother- 
spirit  in  her  which,  observing  the  obedience 
of  her  children,  is  forced  in  very  gratitude 
to  become  their  slave ;  for,  beyond  all 
things,  a  woman  desires  power,  and,  be 
yond  all  things,  she  is  unable  to  use  it 
when  she  gets  it.  If  this  power  be  given  to 
her  grudgingly  she  will  exercise  it  merci 
lessly  ;  if  it  is  given  kindly  then  she  is 
bound  by  her  nature  to  renounce  authority, 
and  to  live  happy  ever  after,  but  it  must  be 
given  to  her. 


CHAPTER  XII 

IT  may  be  surprising  to  learn  that  the 
names  of  the  angels  were  Irish  names,  but 
more  than  eight  hundred  years  ago  a 
famous  Saint  informed  the  world  that  the 
language  spoken  in  heaven  was  Gaelic,  and, 
presumably,  he  had  information  on  the 
point.  He  was  not  an  Irishman,  and  he  had 
no  reason  to  exalt  Fodhla  above  the  other 
nations  of  the  earth,  and,  therefore,  his 
statement  may  be  accepted  on  its  merits, 
the  more  particularly  as  no  other  saint  has 
denied  it,  and  every  Irish  person  is  prepared 
to  credit  it. 

It  was  also  believed  in  ancient  times,  and 
the  belief  was  world- wide,  that  the  entrance 
to  heaven,  hell,  and  purgatory  yawned  in 
the  Isle  of  the  Saints,  and  this  belief  also, 
although  it  has  never  been  proved,  has 
never  been  disproved,  and  it  does  assist  the 

78 


PATSY   MAC   CANN  79 

theory  that  Irish  is  the  celestial  language. 
Furthermore,  Gaelic  is  the  most  beau 
tiful  and  expressive  fashion  of  speech  in 
the  whole  world,  and,  thus,  an  artistic  and 
utilitarian  reinforcement  can  be  hurried 
to  the  support  of  that  theory  should  it 
ever  be  in  danger  from  philologists  with 
foreign  axes  to  grind. 

The  names  of  the  angels  were  Finaun  and 
Caeltia  and  Art. 

Finaun  was  the  eldest  angel ;  Caeltia  was 
that  one  who  had  a  small  coal-black  beard 
on  his  chin,  and  Art  was  the  youngest  of 
the  three,  and  he  was  as  beautiful  as  the 
dawn,  than  which  there  is  nothing  more 
beautiful. 

Finaun  was  an  Archangel  when  he  was  in 
his  own  place ;  Caeltia  was  a  Seraph,  and 
Art  was  a  Cherub.  An  Archangel  is  a 
Councillor  and  a  Guardian ;  a  Seraph  is 
one  who  accumulates  knowledge  ;  a  Cherub 
is  one  who  accumulates  love.  In  heaven 
these  were  their  denominations. 

Finaun  was  wise,  childish,  and  kind,  and 


8o  THE   DEMI-GODS 

between  him  and  the  little  ass  which  drew 
their  cart  there  was  a  singular  and  very 
pleasant  resemblance. 

Caeltia  was  dark  and  determined,  and  if 
he  had  cropped  his  beard  with  a  scissors,  the 
way  Patsy  Mac  Cann  did,  he  would  have 
resembled  Patsy  Mac  Cann  as  closely  as 
one  man  can  resemble  another. 

Art  was  dark  also,  and  young  and  swift 
and  beautiful.  Looking  carelessly  at  him 
one  would  have  said  that,  barring  the  colour, 
he  was  the  brother  of  Mary  Mac  Cann,  and 
that  the  two  of  them  were  born  at  a  birth, 
and  a  good  birth. 

Mary  extended  to  Finaun  part  of  the 
affection  which  she  already  had  for  the  ass, 
and  while  they  were  marching  the  roads 
these  three  always  went  together;  the 
archangel  would  be  on  one  side  of  the 
donkey  and  Mary  would  be  on  the  other 
side,  and  (one  may  say  so)  the  three  of 
them  never  ceased  talking  for  an  instant. 

The  ass,  it  will  be  admitted,  did  not  speak, 
but  he  listened  with  such  evident  intention 


PATSY   MAC   CANN  8r 

that  no  one  could  say  he  was  out  of  the  con 
versation  ;  his  right-hand  ear  hearkened 
agilely  to  Mary;  his  left-hand  ear  sprang 
to  attention  when  Finaun  spoke,  and  when, 
by  a  chance,  they  happened  to  be  silent 
at  the  one  moment  then  both  his  ears 
drooped  forward  towards  his  nose,  and 
so  he  was  silent  also.  A  hand  from  either 
side  continually  touched  his  muzzle  caress 
ingly,  and  at  moments  entirely  unexpected 
he  would  bray  affectionately  at  them  in  a 
voice  that  would  have  tormented  the  ears 
of  any  but  a  true  friend. 

Patsy  Mac  Cann  and  the  seraph  Caeltia 
used  to  march  exactly  at  the  tail  of  the 
cart,  and  they,  also,  talked  a  lot. 

At  first  Patsy  talked  the  most,  for  he  had 
much  information  to  impart,  and  the  seraph 
listened  with  intent  humility,  but,  after  a 
while,  Caeltia,  having  captured  knowledge, 
would  dispute  and  argue  with  great  vivacity. 
They  spoke  of  many  things,  but  a  person  who 
listened  closely  and  recorded  these  things 
would  have  found  that  they  talked  oftener 


82  THE   DEMI-GODS 

about  strong  drinks  than  about  anything 
else.  Mac  Cann  used  to  speak  longingly 
about  strange  waters  which  he  had  heard 
were  brewed  in  foreign  lands,  potent  brew 
ings  which  had  been  described  to  him  by 
emphatic  sailormen  with  tarry  thumbs ; 
but  at  this  stage  Caeltia  only  spoke  about 
porter  and  whisky,  and  was  well  contented 
to  talk  of  these. 

The  cherub  Art  was  used  to  promenade 
alone  behind  them  all,  but  sometimes  he 
would  go  in  front  and  listen  to  the  conversa 
tion  with  the  ass  ;  sometimes  he  would  join 
the  two  behind  and  force  them  to  consider 
matters  in  which  they  were  not  interested, 
and  sometimes  again  he  would  range  the 
fields  on  either  side,  or  he  would  climb  a 
tree,  or  he  would  go  alone  by  himself  shout 
ing  a  loud  song  that  he  had  learned  at  the 
fair  which  they  had  last  journeyed  to,  or 
he  would  prance  silently  along  the  road  as 
though  his  body  was  full  of  jumps  and  he  did 
not  know  what  to  do  with  them,  or  he  would 
trudge  forlornly  in  a  boredom  so  profound 


PATSY   MAC   CANN  83 

that  one  expected  him  to  drop  dead  of  it  in 
his  tracks. 

So  life  fell  into  a  sort  of  routine. 

When  they  were  camped  for  the  night 
Caeltia  and  Art  would  always  sit  on  one  side 
of  the  brazier  with  Patsy  Mac  Cann  sitting 
between  them;  on  the  other  side  of  the 
brazier  the  archangel  and  Mary  would  sit ; 
Finaun  always  sat  very  close  to  her  when 
they  had  finished  eating  and  were  all  talk 
ing  together ;  he  used  to  take  her  long  plait 
of  hair  into  his  lap,  and  for  a  long  time  he 
would  unplait  and  plait  again  the  end  of  that 
lovely  rope. 

Mary  liked  him  to  do  this,  and  nobody 
else  minded  it. 


BOOK   II 
EILEEN   NI   COOLEY 


CHAPTER  XIII 

EARLY  in  the  morning  the  sun  had  been 
shining  gloriously,  and  there  was  a  thump  of 
a  wind  blowing  across  the  road  that  kept 
everything  gay ;  the  trees  were  in  full  leaf 
and  every  bough  went  jigging  to  its  neigh 
bour,  but  on  the  sky  the  clouds  raced  so 
fast  that  they  were  continually  catching 
each  other  up  and  getting  so  mixed  that  they 
could  not  disentangle  themselves  again, 
and  from  their  excessive  gaiety  black  misery 
spread  and  the  sun  took  a  gloomy  cast. 

Mac  Cann  screwed  an  eye  upwards  like  a 
bird  and  rubbed  at  his  chin. 

"There  will  be  rain  soon,"  said  he,  "and 
the  country  wants  it." 

"  It  will  be  heavy  rain,"  said  his  daughter. 

"It  will  so,"  he  replied;  "let  us  be 
getting  along  now  the  way  we*  11  be  some 
where  before  the  rain  comes,  for  I  never  did 

87 


88  THE   DEMI-GODS 

like  getting  wetted  by  rain,  and  nobody  ever 
did  except  the  people  of  the  County  Cork, 
and  they  are  so  used  to  it  that  they  never 
know  whether  it's  raining  or  whether  it 
isn't." 

So  they  encouraged  the  ass  to  go  quicker 
and  he  did  that. 

As  they  hastened  along  the  road  they  saw 
in  front  of  them  two  people  marching  close 
together,  and  in  a  little  time  they  drew  close 
to  these  people. 

"I  know  the  look  of  that  man's  back," 
said  Patsy,  "but  I  can't  tell  you  where  I  saw 
it.  I've  a  good  memory  for  faces,  though, 
and  I'll  tell  you  all  about  him  in  a  minute." 

"Do  you  know  the  woman  that  is  with 
him?"  said  Caeltia. 

!<You  can't  tell  a  woman  by  her  back," 
replied  Patsy,  "and  nobody  could,  for  they 
all  have  the  same  back  when  they  have  a 
shawl  on." 

Mary  turned  her  head  to  them : 

"Every  woman's  back  is  different,"  said 
she,  "whether  there's  a  shawl  on  it  or  not, 


EILEEN   NI   COOLEY  89 

and  I  know  from  the  way  that  woman  is 
wearing  her  shawl  that  she  is  Eileen  Ni 
Cooley  and  no  one  else." 

"If  that  is  so,"  said  her  father  hastily, 
"let  us  be  going  slower  the  way  we  won't 
catch  up  on  her.  Mary,  a  grah,  whisper  a 
word  in  the  ass's  ear  so  that  he  won't  be 
going  so  quick,  for  he  is  full  of  fun  this 
day." 

"I'll  do  that,"  said  Mary,  and  she  said 
"whoa"  into  the  ear  of  the  little  ass,  and  he 
stopped  inside  the  quarter  of  a  pace. 

"Do  you  not  like  that  woman  ?"  Caeltia 
enquired. 

"She's  a  bad  woman,"  replied  Patsy. 

"What  sort  of  a  bad  woman  is  she  ? " 

"She's  the  sort  that  commits  adultery 
with  every  kind  of  man,"  said  he  harshly. 

Caeltia  turned  over  that  accusation  for  a 
moment. 

"Did  she  ever  commit  adultery  with 
yourself?"  said  he. 

"She  did  not,"  said  Patsy,  "and  that's 
why  I  don't  like  her." 


90  THE  DEMI-GODS 

Caeltia  considered  that  statement  also, 
and  found  it  reasonable : 

"I  think, "  said  he,  "that  the  reason  you 
don't  like  that  woman  is  because  you  like 
her  too  much." 

"It's  so,"  said  Patsy,  "but  there  is  no 
reason  for  her  taking  on  with  every  kind  of 
man  and  not  taking  on  with  me  at  all." 

He  was  silent  for  a  moment. 

"I  tell  you,"  said  he  furiously,  "that  I 
made  love  to  that  woman  from  the  dawn  to 
the  dark,  and  then  she  walked  off  with  a 
man  that  came  down  a  little  road." 

"  That  was  her  right,"  said  Caeltia  mildly. 

"Maybe  it  was,  but  for  the  weight  of  a 
straw  I  would  have  killed  the  pair  of  them 
that  night  in  the  dark  place." 

"Why  didn't  you?" 

"She  had  me  weakened.  My  knees  gave 
under  me  when  she  walked  away  and  there 
wasn't  even  a  curse  in  my  mouth." 

Again  he  was  silent,  and  again  he  broke 
into  angry  speech  ! 

"I  don't  want  to  see  her  at  all,  for  she 


EILEEN  NI   COOLEY  91 

torments  me,  so  let  the  pair  of  them  walk 
their  road  until  they  come  to  a  ditch  that 
is  full  of  thorns  and  is  fit  for  them  to  die 
in." 

"I  think,"  said  Caeltia,  "that  the  reason 
you  don't  want  to  see  her  is  because  you 
want  to  see  her  too  much." 

"It's  so,"  growled  Mac  Cann,  "and  it's  so 
too  that  you  are  a  prying  kind  of  a  man  and 
that  your  mouth  is  never  at  rest,  so  we'll  go 
on  now  to  the  woman  yonder,  and  let  you 
talk  to  her  with  your  tongue  and  your 
nimble  questions." 

Thereupon  he  rushed  forward  and  kicked 
the  ass  so  suddenly  in  the  belly  that  it  leaped 
straight  off  the  ground  and  began  to  run 
before  its  legs  touched  earth  again. 

When  they  had  taken  a  few  dozen  steps 
Mac  Cann  began  to  roar  furiously : 

"What  way  are  you,  Eileen  Ni  Cooley? 
What  sort  of  a  man  is  it  that's  walking 
beside  yourself  ?  " 

And  he  continued  roaring  questions  such 
as  that  until  they  drew  on  the  people. 


92  THE   DEMI-GODS 

The  folk  stopped  at  his  shouts. 

The  woman  was  big  and  thin  and  she  had 
red  hair.  Her  face  was  freckled  all  over  so 
that  one  could  only  see  her  delicate  com 
plexion  in  little  spots,  and  at  the  first  glance 
the  resemblance  between  herself  and  Finaun 
was  extraordinary.  In  the  sweep  of  the 
brow,  the  set  of  the  cheek-bones,  a  regard 
of  the  eyes,  that  resemblance  was  seen,  and 
then  the  look  vanished  in  a  poise  of  the  head 
and  came  again  in  another  one. 

At  the  moment  her  blue  eyes  seemed  the 
angriest  that  ever  were  in  a  woman* s  head. 
She  stood  leaning  on  a  thick  ash-plant  and 
watched  the  advancing  company,  but  she 
did  not  utter  a  word  to  them. 

The  man  by  her  side  was  tall  also  and  as 
thin  as  a  pole ;  he  was  ramshackle  and 
slovenly ;  there  was  not  much  pith  in  his 
body,  for  he  was  weak  at  the  knees  and  his 
big  feet  splayed  outwards  at  a  curious  angle  ; 
but  his  face  was  extraordinary  intelligent, 
and  when  he  was  younger  must  have 
been  beautiful.  Drink  and  ill -health  had 


EILEEN   NI   COOLEY  93 

dragged  and  carved  his  flesh,  and  nothing  of 
comeliness  remained  to  him  but  his  eyes, 
which  were  timid  and  tender  as  those  of  a 
fawn,  and  his  hands  which  had  never  done 
anything  but  fumble  with  women.  He  also 
leaned  quietly  on  a  cudgel  and  watched 
Patsy  Mac  Cann. 

And  it  was  to  him  that  Patsy  came.  He 
did  not  look  once  at  the  woman,  though  all 
the  time  he  never  ceased  shouting  saluta 
tions  and  questions  at  her  by  her  name. 

He  walked  directly  to  the  man,  eyeing 
him  intently. 

"And  how  is  yourself?"  he  roared  with 
horrible  heartiness.  "It's  a  while  since  I 
saw  you,  and  it  was  the  pitch  night  that 
time/' 

"I'm  all  right,"  said  the  man. 

"So  you  are,"  said  Patsy,  "and  why 
wouldn't  you  be  ?  Weren't  you  born  in  the 
wide  lap  of  good  luck,  and  didn't  you  stay 
there  ?  Ah,  it's  the  way  that  the  men  that 
come  down  little,  narrow  paths  do  have 
fortune,  and  the  ones  that  tramp  the  wide 


94  THE   DEMI-GODS 

roads  do  have  nothing  but  their  broken 
feet.  Good  luck  to  you,  my  soul,  and  long 
may  you  wave  —  Eh  ! " 

"I  didn't  say  a  word,"  said  the  man. 

"And  there's  a  stick  in  your  hand  that 
would  crack  the  skull  of  a  mountain,  let 
alone  a  man." 

"It's  a  good  stick,"  said  the  man. 

"Would  you  be  calling  it  the  brother  or 
the  husband  of  the  one  that  the  woman  has 
in  her  happy  hands." 

"I  would  be  calling  it  a  stick  only," 
replied  the  man. 

"That's  the  name  for  it  surely,"  said 
Patsy,  "for  a  stick  hasn't  got  a  soul  any 
more  than  a  woman  has,  and  isn't  that  a 
great  mercy  and  a  great  comfort,  for 
heaven  would  be  full  of  women  and  wood, 
and  there  would  be  no  room  for  the  men 
and  the  drink." 

The  red-haired  woman  strode  to  Patsy 
and,  putting  her  hand  against  his  breast, 
she  gave  him  a  great  push : 

"If   you're   talking,"    said   she,    "or   if 


EILEEN   NI   COOLEY  95 

you're  fighting,  turn  to  myself,  for  the 
man  doesn't  know  you." 

Patsy  did  turn  to  her  with  a  great  laugh  : 

"It's  the  one  pleasure  of  my  life  to  have 
your  hands  on  me,"  he  gibed.  "Give  me 
another  puck  now,  and  a  hard  one,  the  way 
I'll  feel  you  well/' 

The  woman  lifted  her  ash-plant  threaten 
ingly  and  crouched  towards  him,  but  the 
look  on  his  face  was  such  that  she  let  her 
hand  fall  again. 

"You're  full  ?of  fun,"  said  Patsy,  "and 
you  always  were,  but  we're  going  to  be 
the  great  friends  from  now  on,  yourself 
and  myself  and  the  man  with  the  stick; 
we'll  be  going  by  short  cuts  everywhere 
in  the  world,  and  having  a  gay  time." 

"We're  not  going  with  you,  Padraig," 
said  the  woman,  "and  whatever  road  you 
are  taking  this  day  the  man  and  myself 
will  be  going  another  road." 

"Whoo!"  said  Patsy,  "there  are  roads 
everywhere,  so  you're  all  right,  and  there 
are  men  on  every  one  of  the  roads." 


CHAPTER  XIV 

WHILE  this  conversation  had  been  taking 
place  the  others  stood  in  a  grave  semi 
circle,  and  listened  intently  to  their  words. 

Caeltia,  regarding  the  sky,  intervened : 

"The  rain  will  be  here  in  a  minute,  so 
we  had  better  walk  on  and  look  for  shelter." 

Mac  Cann  detached  his  heavy  regard 
from  Eileen  Ni  Cooley,  and  swept  the  sky 
and  the  horizon. 

"That  is  so,"  said  he.  "Let  us  go  ahead 
now,  for  we've  had  our  talk,  and  we  are  all 
satisfied." 

"There  is  a  broken-down  house  stuck 
up  a  bohereen,"  he  continued.  "It's  only 
a  few  perches  up  this  road,  for  I  remember 
passing  the  place  the  last  time  I  was  this 
way ;  that  place  will  give  us  shelter  while 
the  rain  spills." 

96 


EILEEN   NI   COOLEY  97 

He  turned  his  stubborn  face  to  the 
woman : 

"You  can  come  with  us  if  you  like,  and 
you  can  stay  where  you  are  if  you  like,  or 
you  can  go  to  the  devil,"  and,  saying  so, 
he  tramped  after  his  daughter. 

The  woman  had  just  caught  sight  of 
Art  the  cherub,  and  was  regarding  him 
with  her  steady  eyes. 

"Whoo!"  said  she,  "I'm  not  the  one 
to  be  frightened  and  I  never  was,  so  let 
us  all  go  along  and  talk  about  our  sins 
in  the  wet  weather." 

They  started  anew  on  the  road,  Patsy's 
company  in  advance,  and  behind  marched 
the  woman  and  the  man  and  Art  the 
cherub. 

The  sun  had  disappeared;  wild  clouds 
were  piling  themselves  in  rugged  hills 
along  the  sky,  and  the  world  was  growing 
dull  and  chill.  Against  the  grey  atmos 
phere  Art's  face  was  in  profile,  an  outline 
sharp  and  calm  and  beautiful. 

Eileen    Ni    Cooley    was    regarding    him 


98  THE   DEMI-GODS 

curiously  as  they  walked  together,  and  the 
strange  man,  with  a  wry  smile  on  his  lips, 
was  regarding  her  with  a  like  curiosity. 

She  pointed  towards  Patsy  Mac  Cann, 
who  was  tramping  vigorously  a  dozen  yards 
ahead. 

" Young  boy/'  said  she,  "where  did  you 
pick  up  with  the  man  yonder,  for  the  pair 
of  you  don't  look  matched  ?" 

Art  had  his  hands  in  his  pockets;  he 
turned  and  looked  at  her  tranquilly. 

"Where  did  you  pick  up  with  that  man," 
he  nodded  towards  her  companion,  "and 
where  did  the  man  pick  up  with  you,  for 
you  don't  look  matched  either  ?" 

"We're  not,"  said  the  woman  quickly; 
"we're  not  matched  a  bit.  That  man  and 
myself  do  be  quarrelling  all  day  and  all 
night,  and  threatening  to  walk  away  from 
each  other  every  minute  of  the  time." 

The  man  stared  at  her. 

"Is  that  how  it  is  with  us ?"  said  he. 

"It  is,"  said  she  to  Art,  "that's  the  way 
it  is  with  us,  honey.  The  man  and  myself 


EILEEN   NI   COOLEY  99 

have  no  love  for  each  other  now,  and  we 
never  had." 

The  man  halted  suddenly;  he  changed 
the  cudgel  to  his  left  hand  and  thrust  out 
his  right  hand  to  her. 

"Put  your  own  hand  there/'  said  he, 
"and  shake  it  well,  and  then  be  going  along 
your  road." 

"What  are  you  talking  about?"  said 
she. 

He  replied,  frowning  sternly  from  his 
wild  eyes : 

"I  wouldn't  hold  the  grace  of  God  if  I 
saw  it  slipping  from  me,  so  put  your  hand 
into  my  hand  and  go  along  your  road." 

Eileen  Ni  Cooley  put  her  hand  into  his 
with  some  awkwardness  and  turned  away 
her  head. 

"There  it  is  for  you,"  said  she. 

Then  the  man  turned  about  and  flapped 
quickly  along  the  path  they  had  already 
travelled;  his  cudgel  beat  the  ground 
with  a  sharp  noise,  and  he  did  not  once 
look  back. 


ioo  THE   DEMI-GODS 

Before  he  had  taken  an  hundred  paces 
the  rain  came,  a  fine,  noiseless  drizzle. 

"It  will  be  heavy  in  a  minute/'  said  the 
woman,  "let  us  run  after  the  cart." 

With  a  quick  movement  she  tucked  her 
shawl  about  her  head  and  shoulders  and 
started  to  run,  and  Art  went  after  her  in 
alternate  long  hops  of  each  foot. 

They  had  reached  a  narrow  path  running 
diagonally  from  the  main  road. 

"Up  this  way,"  shouted  Patsy,  and  the 
company  trooped  after  him,  leaving  the 
ass  and  cart  to  the  storm. 

Two  minutes*  distance  up  the  road  stood 
a  small,  dismantled  house.  There  was  a 
black  gape  where  the  window  had  been, 
and  there  were  holes  in  the  walls.  In 
these  holes  grass  and  weeds  were  waving, 
as  they  were  along  the  window-ledge. 
The  roof  was  covered  with  a  rusty  thatch 
and  there  were  red  poppies  growing  on 
that. 

Patsy  climbed  through  the  low  window- 
space,  and  the  others  climbed  in  after  him. 


CHAPTER  XV 

INSIDE  the  house  was  an  earthen  floor, 
four  walls,  and  plenty  of  air.  There  were 
breezes  blowing  in  the  empty  house,  for 
from  whatever  direction  a  wind  might 
come  it  found  entrance  there.  There  were 
stones  lying  everywhere  on  the  floor ;  some 
of  them  had  dropped  from  the  walls,  but 
most  had  been  jerked  through  the  window 
by  passing  children.  There  were  spider's 
webs  in  that  house ;  the  roof  was  covered 
with  them,  and  the  walls  were  covered 
with  them  too.  It  was  a  dusty  house, 
and  when  it  would  be  wet  enough  it  would 
be  a  muddy  house,  and  it  was  musty  with 
disuse  and  desolation. 

But  the  company  did  not  care  anything 
about  dust  or  stones  or  spiders.  They 
kicked  the  stones  aside  and  sat  on  the  floor 
in  the  most  sheltered  part  of  the  place 

101 


102  THE   DEMI-GODS 

where  there  had  once  been  a  fireplace,  and 
if  a  spider  walked  on  any  of  them  it  was 
permitted. 

•  Patsy  produced  a  clay  pipe  and  lit  it, 
and  Caeltia  took  a  silver-mounted  briar 
from  his  pocket  and  he  lit  that  and  smoked 
it. 

»  Outside  the  rain  suddenly  began  to  fall 
with  a  low  noise  and  the  room  grew  dark. 
Within  there  was  a  brooding  quietness,  for 
none  of  the  people  spoke;  they  were  all 
waiting  for  each  other  to  speak. 

Indeed,  they  had  all  been  agitated  when 
they  came  in,  for  the  wrung  face  of  Patsy 
and  the  savage  eyes  of  Eileen  Ni  Cooley 
had  whipped  their  blood.  Tragedy  had 
sounded  her  warning  note  on  the  air,  and 
they  were  each  waiting  to  see  had  they  a 
part  in  the  play. 

But  the  sudden  change  of  atmosphere 
wrought  like  a  foreign  chemical  in  their 
blood,  the  sound  of  the  falling  rain  dulled 
their  spirits,  the  must  of  that  sleeping  house 
went  to  their  brains  like  an  opiate,  and  the 


EILEEN   NI   COOLEY          103 

silence  of  the  place  folded  them  about, 
compelling  them  to  a  similar  quietude. 

We  are  imitative  beings ;  we  respond  to 
the  tone  and  colour  of  our  environment 
almost  against  ourselves,  and  still  have  our 
links  with  the  chameleon  and  the  moth; 
the  sunset  sheds  its  radiant  peace  upon 
us  and  we  are  content ;  the  silent  moun 
tain-top  lays  a  finger  on  our  lips  and  we 
talk  in  whispers ;  the  clouds  lend  us  of 
their  gaiety  and  we  rejoice.  So  for  a 
few  moments  they  sat  wrestling  with  the 
dull  ghosts  of  that  broken  house,  the 
mournful  phantasms  that  were  not  dead 
long  enough  to  be  happy,  for  death  is 
sorrowful  at  first  and  for  a  long  time,  but 
afterwards  the  dead  are  contented  and 
learn  to  shape  themselves  anew. 

Patsy,  drawing  on  his  pipe,  looked  around 
the  people. 

"  Eh  ! "  he  exclaimed  with  heavy  joviality, 
"where  has  the  man  got  to,  the  man  with 
the  big  stick  ?  If  he's  shy  let  him  come  in, 
and  if  he's  angry  let  him  come  in  too." 


io4  THE  DEMI-GODS 

Eileen  Ni  Cooley  was  sitting  close  beside 
Art.  She  had  let  her  shawl  droop  from 
her  head,  and  her  hair  was  showing  through 
the  dusk  like  a  torch. 

"The  man  has  gone  away,  Padraig,"  said 
she ;  "he  got  tired  of  the  company,  and  he's 
gone  travelling  towards  his  own  friends. " 

Patsy  regarded  her  with  shining  eyes. 
The  must  of  the  house  was  no  longer  in  his 
nostrils ;  the  silence  lifted  from  him  at  a 
bound. 

"You  are  telling  me  a  fine  story,  Eileen, " 
said  he,  "tell  me  this  too,  did  the  man  go 
away  of  his  own  will,  or  did  you  send  him 
away?" 

"It  was  a  bit  of  both,  Padraig." 

"The  time  to  get  good  news,"  said  Patsy, 
"is  when  it's  raining,  and  that  is  good 
news,  and  it's  raining  now." 

"News  need  not  be  good  or  bad,  but 
only  news,"  she  replied,  "and  we  will  leave 
it  at  that." 

Caeltia  spoke  to  her  : 

"Do  you  have  a  good  life  going  by  your- 


EILEEN   NI   COOLEY          105 

self  about  the  country  and  making  acquaint 
ances  where  you  please  ?" 

"I  have  the  life  I  like,"  she  answered, 
"and  whether  it's  good  or  bad  doesn't 
matter." 

"Tell  me  the  reason  you  never  let  him 
self  make  love  to  you  when  he  wants  to 
make  it?" 

"He  is  a  domineering  man,"  said  she, 
"and  I  am  a  proud  woman,  and  we  would 
never  give  in  to  each  other.  When  one  of 
us  would  want  to  do  a  thing  the  other  one 
wouldn't  do  it,  and  there  would  be  no 
living  between  us.  If  I  said  black  he 
would  say  white,  and  if  he  said  yes  I  would 
say  no,  and  that's  how  we  are." 

"He  has  a  great  love  for  you." 

"He  has  a  great  hate  for  me.  He  loves 
me  the  way  a  dog  loves  bones,  and  in  a  little 
while  he'd  kill  me  in  a  lonely  place  with  his 
hands  to  see  what  I  would  look  like  and  I 
dying." 

She  turned  her  face  to  Mac  Cann : 

"That's  the  kind  of  man  you  are  to  me, 


io6  THE   DEMI-GODS 

Padraig,  although  you're  different  to  other 
people." 

"I  am  not  that  sort  of  man,  but  it's 
yourself  is  like  that.  I  tell  you  that  if  I 
took  a  woman  with  me  I'd  be  staunch  to 
her  the  way  I  was  with  the  mother  of  the 
girl  there,  and  if  you  were  to  come  with  me 
you  wouldn't  have  any  complaint  from 
now  on." 

"I  know  every  thing  I'm  talking  about," 
she  replied  sternly,  "and  I  won't  go  with 
you,  but  I'll  go  with  the  young  man  here 
beside  me." 

With  the  words  she  put  her  hand  on 
Art's  arm  and  kept  it  there. 

Mary  Mac  Cann  straightened  up  where 
she  was  sitting  and  became  deeply  in 
terested. 

Art  turned  and  burst  into  a  laugh  as  he 
looked  critically  at  Eileen. 

"I  will  not  go  with  you,"  said  he.  "I 
don't  care  for  you  a  bit." 

She  gave  a  hard  smile  and  removed  her 
hand  from  his  arm. 


EILEEN   NI   COOLEY          107 

"It's  all  the  worse  for  me,"  said  she, 
"and  it's  small  harm  to  you,  young  boy." 

"That's  a  new  answer  for  yourself," 
said  Patsy,  grinning  savagely. 

"It  is,  and  it's  a  new  day  for  me,  and  a 
poor  day,  for  it's  the  first  day  of  my  old 
age." 

"You'll  die  in  a  ditch,"  cried  Patsy, 
"you'll  die  in  a  ditch  like  an  old  mare  with 
a  broken  leg." 

"I  will,"  she  snarled,  "when  the  time 
comes,  but  you'll  never  have  the  killing 
of  me,  Padraig." 

Finaun  was  sitting  beside  Mary  with 
her  hand  in  his,  but  she  snatched  her  hand 
away  and  flared  so  fiercely  upon  Eileen 
that  the  woman  looked  up. 

"Don't  be  angry  with  me,  Mary,"  said 
she;  "I  never  did  you  any  harm  yet  and 
I'll  never  be  able  to  do  it  now,  for  there 
are  years  between  us,  and  they're  going 
to  break  my  back." 

Finaun  was  speaking,  more,  it  seemed, 
to  himself  than  to  the  company.  He 


io8  THE   DEMI-GODS 

combed  his  white  beard  with  his  hand  as 
he  spoke,  and  they  all  looked  at  him. 

"He  is  talking  in  his  sleep,"  said  Eileen 
pensively,  "and  he  an  old  man,  and  a 
nice  old  man." 

"My  father,"  said  Caeltia,  in  an  apolo 
getic  voice ;  "there  is  no  need  to  tell  about 
that." 

"There  is  every  need,  my  beloved," 
replied  Finaun  with  his  slow  smile. 

"I  would  rather  you  did  not,"  murmured 
Caeltia,  lifting  his  hand  a  little. 

"I  ask  your  permission,  my  son,"  said 
Finaun  gently. 

Caeltia  spread  out  his  open  palms  and 
dropped  them  again. 

"Whatever  you  wish  to  do  is  good,  my 
father,"  and,  with  a  slight  blush,  he  slid 
the  pipe  into  his  pocket. 

Finaun  turned  to  Eileen  Ni  Cooley : 

"I  will  tell  you  a  story,"  said  he. 

"Sure,"  said  Eileen,  "I'd  love  to  hear 
you,  and  I  could  listen  to  a  story  for  a  day 
and  a  night." 


EILEEN   NI   COOLEY          109 

Mac  Cann  pulled  solemnly  at  his  pipe 
and  regarded  Finaun  who  was  looking  at 
him  peacefully  from  a  corner. 

"You're  full  of  fun,"  said  he  to  the 
archangel. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

SAID  Finaun : 

"While  generation  succeeds  generation 
a  man  has  to  fight  the  same  fight.  At 
the  end  he  wins,  and  he  never  has  to  fight 
that  battle  again,  and  then  he  is  ready  for 
Paradise. 

"  Every  man  from  the  beginning  has  one 
enemy  from  whom  he  can  never  escape, 
and  the  story  of  his  lives  is  the  story  of 
his  battles  with  that  enemy  whom  he 
must  draw  into  his  own  being  before  he 
can  himself  attain  to  real  being,  for  an 
enemy  can  never  be  crushed,  but  every 
enemy  can  be  won. 

"Long  before  the  foundations  of  this 
world  were  laid,  when  the  voice  was  heard 
and  the  army  of  the  voice  went  through 
the  darkness,  two  people  came  into  being 
with  the  universe  that  was  their  shell. 

no 


EILEEN   NI   COOLEY          in 

They  lived  through  myriad  existences 
knowing  star  after  star  grow  hot  and  cold 
in  the  broad  sky,  and  they  hated  each 
other  through  the  changing  of  the  stars 
and  the  ebbing  and  flooding  of  their  lives. 

"At  a  time  this  one  of  them  would  be  a 
woman  and  that  other  would  be  a  man,  and 
again  in  due  period  the  one  that  had  been  a 
woman  would  be  a  man  and  the  other 
would  be  a  woman,  that  their  battle  might 
be  joined  in  the  intimacy  which  can  only 
come  through  difference  and  the  distance 
that  is  attraction. 

11  No  one  can  say  which  of  these  did  most 
harm  to  the  other ;  no  one  can  say  which 
was  the  most  ruthless,  the  most  merciless, 
for  they  were  born,  as  all  enemies  are, 
equal  in  being  and  in  power. 

"Through  their  lives  they  had  many 
names  and  they  lived  in  many  lands,  but 
their  names  in  eternity  were  Finaun  Mac 
Dea  and  Caeltia  Mac  Dea,  and  when  the 
time  comes,  their  name  will  be  Mac 
Dea  and  nothing  else:  then  they  will 


ii2  THE   DEMI-GODS 

become  one  in  each  other,  and  one  in 
Infinite  Greatness,  and  one  in  the  un 
ending  life  of  Eternity  which  is  God :  but 
still,  in  world  under  world,  in  star  under 
flaming  star,  they  pursue  each  other  with 
a  hate  which  is  slowly  changing  into  love. 

"It  was  not  on  earth,  nor  in  any  planet, 
that  the  beginning  of  love  came  to  these 
two,  it  was  in  the  hell  that  they  had 
fashioned  for  themselves  in  terror  and  lust 
and  cruelty.  For,  as  they  sat  among  their 
demons,  a  seed  germinated  in  the  soul  of 
one,  the  seed  of  knowledge  which  is  the 
parent  of  love  and  the  parent  of  every 
terrible  and  beautiful  thing  in  the  worlds 
and  the  heavens. 

"While  that  one  looked  on  his  com 
panion,  writhing  like  himself  in  torment, 
he  grew  conscious,  and  although  he  looked 
at  the  other  with  fury  it  was  with  a 
new  fury,  for  with  it  came  contempt,  and 
they  were  no  longer  equal  in  power  or  in 
hate. 

"Now,  for  the  first  time,  that  one  in 


EILEEN   NI   COOLEY          nj 

whom  knowledge  had  been  born  desired 
to  escape  from  his  companion;  he  wished 
to  get  away  so  that  he  might  never  behold 
that  enemy  again ;  suddenly  the  other 
appeared  to  him  hideous  as  a  toad  that 
couches  in  slime  and  spits  his  poison  at 
random,  but  he  could  not  escape,  and  he 
could  never  escape. 

"As  that  one  increased  in  knowledge  so 
he  increased  in  cruelty  and  power,  so  his 
lust  became  terrible,  for  now  there  was 
fear  in  his  contempt  because  he  could  never 
escape.  Many  a  time  they  fled  from  one 
another,  but  always,  and  however  they 
fled,  it  was  towards  each  other  their  steps 
were  directed.  At  the  feast,  in  the  camp, 
and  in  the  wilderness  they  found  them 
selves  and  undertook  anew  the  quarrel 
which  was  their  blood  and  their  being. 

"And  that  other  in  whom  knowledge 
had  not  awakened  —  He  raged  like  a  beast  ; 
he  thought  in  blood  and  fever ;  his  brains 
were  his  teeth  and  the  nails  of  his  hands. 
Cunning  came  creepingly  to  his  aid  against 


T. i4  THE   DEMI-GODS 

knowledge ;  he  lay  in  wait  for  his  enemy 
in  gloomy  places ;  he  spread  snares  for 
him  in  the  darkness  and  baited  traps. 
He  feigned  humility  to  get  closer  to  his 
vengeance,  but  he  could  not  combat 
knowledge. 

"Time  and  again  he  became  the  slave  of 
that  other,  and  as  slave  and  master  their 
battle  was  savagely  joined,  until  at  last 
knowledge  stirred  also  in  that  mind  and 
he  grew  conscious. 

"Then  the  age-long  enmity  drew  to  its 
change.  For  him  there  was  no  contempt 
possible,  the  other  was  older  than  he  and 
wiser,  for  to  be  wise  is  to  be  old;  there 
was  no  vantage  for  contempt,  but  envy 
sharpened  his  sword,  it  salted  his  anger, 
and  they  fought  anew  and  unceasingly. 

"But  now  their  hands  were  not  seeking 
each  other 's  throats  with  such  frank 
urgency  ;  they  fought  subterraneously,  with 
smiles  and  polite  words  and  decent  ob 
servances,  but  they  did  not  cease  for  an 
instant  to  strive  and  never  did  they  for- 


EILEEN   NI    COOLEY          115 

sake  an  advantage  or  lift  up  the  one  that 
had  fallen. 

" Again  the  change:  and  now  they 
battled  not  in  the  name  of  hate  but  under 
the  holy  superscription  of  love ;  again 
and  again,  life  after  life,  they  harried  and 
ruined  each  other ;  their  desire  for  one 
another  was  a  madness,  and  in  that  desire 
they  warred  more  bitterly  than  before. 
They  blasted  each  other's  lives,  they  dashed 
their  honour  to  the  mud,  they  slew  one 
another.  Than  this  none  of  their  battles 
had  been  so  terrible.  Here  there  was  no 
let,  no  respite  even  for  an  instant.  They 
knew  each  other  with  that  superficial 
knowledge  which  seems  so  clear  although 
it  shows  no  more  than  the  scum  floating 
upon  existence ;  they  knew  the  scummi- 
ness  of  each  other  and  exhausted  to  the 
dregs  their  abundant  evil  until  of  evil 
they  could  learn  no  further,  and  their 
lives,  alternating  in  a  fierce  energy  and  a 
miserable  weariness,  came  towards  but  could 
not  come  to  stagnation. 


Ii6  THE   DEMI-GODS 

"The  horizon  vanished  from  them ;  there 
were  irons  on  the  feet  of  the  winds;  the 
sun  peered  from  a  hood  through  a  mask, 
and  life  was  one  room  wherein  dull  voices 
droned  dully,  wherein  something  was  for 
ever  uttered  and  nothing  was  said,  where 
hands  were  for  ever  lifted  and  nothing 
was  done,  where  the  mind  smouldered  and 
flared  to  lightning  and  no  thought  came 
from  the  spark. 

"They  had  reached  an  end,  and  it  was 
a  precipice  down  which  they  must  spin 
giddily  to  the  murk,  or  else  shape  wings 
for  themselves  and  soar  from  that  com 
pletion,  for  completion  is  a  consciousness, 
and  once  again  they  were  powerfully  aware 
of  themselves.  They  were  vice-conscious, 
and  virtue  did  not  abide  in  their  minds 
than  as  a  dream  which  was  an  illusion  and 
a  lie. 

"Then,  and  this  too  was  long  ago  !  how 
long  !  When  the  moon  was  young ;  when 
she  gathered  rosy  clouds  about  her  evening 
and  sang  at  noon  from  bush  and  mountain- 


EILEEN   NI   COOLEY          117 

ledge ;  when  she  folded  her  breasts  in  dewy 
darkness  and  awakened  with  cries  of  joy 
to  the  sun;  then  she  tended  her  flowers 
in  the  vale ;  she  drove  her  kine  to  deep 
pasture :  she  sang  to  her  multitudes  of 
increase  and  happiness  while  her  feet  went 
in  the  furrow  with  the  plough  and  her 
hand  guided  the  sickle  and  the  sheaf. 
Great  love  didst  thou  give  when  thou 
wast  a  mother,  O  Beautiful !  who  art 
now  white  as  silver  and  hath  ice  upon  thine 
ancient  head. 

"Again  they  lived  and  were  wed. 
"Which  of  them  was  which  in  that  sad 
pilgrimage  it  is  not  now  possible  to  know. 
Memory  faints  at  the  long  tale  of  it,  and 
they  were  so  intermingled,  so  alike  through 
all  their  difference  that  they  were  becom 
ing    one    in    the    great    memory.     Again 
they  took  up  the  time-long  burden,   and 
again    desire    drew    them     wildly    to  the 
r  embrace  which  was  much  repugnance  and 
'  very  little  love.     So,  behold  these  two,  a 
man  and  a  woman,  walking  through  the 


n8  THE   DEMI-GODS 

pleasant  light,  taking  each  other 's  hands 
in  a  kindness  that  had  no  roots,  speaking 
words  of  affection  that  their  souls  groaned 
the  lie  to. 

"The  woman  was  fair  —  she  was  fair 
as  one  star  that  shines  on  the  void  and  is 
not  abashed  before  immensity ;  she  was 
beautiful  as  a  green  tree  by  a  pool  that 
bows  peacefully  to  the  sun ;  she  was 
lovely  as  a  field  of  mild  corn  waving  to 
the  wind  in  one  slow  movement.  To 
gether  they  plumbed  their  desire  and  found 
wickedness  glooming  at  the  bottom,  and 
they  were  conscious  of  themselves  and  of 
all  evil. 

"There  was  a  demon  in  the  pit  that 
they  had  digged,  and  always,  when  they 
founded  anew  their  hell,  he  tormented 
them ;  he  was  the  accumulation  of  their 
evil ;  age  after  age  they  re-created  him 
until  he  showed  gigantic  and  terrible  as 
a  storm,  and  as  they  lusted  after  each 
other  so  he  lusted  after  them. 

"On  a  time  that  Misery  shaped  itself 


EILEEN   NI   COOLEY          119 

as  a  man  and  came  privily  to  the  woman 
while  she  walked  under  heavy  apple  boughs 
in  a  garden.  Their  feet  went  to  and  fro 
closely  together  in  the  grass  and  their 
voices  communed  together,  until  one  day 
the  woman  cried  bitterly  that  there  were 
no  wings,  and  with  the  Spectre  she  leaped 
forthright  to  the  chasm  and  went  down 
shrieking  a  laughter  that  was  woe.  There 
she  found  herself  and  her  demon  and  was 
the  concubine  of  that  one ;  and  there,  in 
the  gulf  and  chasm  of  evil,  she  conjured 
virtue  to  her  tortured  soul  and  stole  energy 
from  the  demon. 

"She  sat  among  the  rocks  of  her  place. 

"Old  Misery  beside  her  laughed  his 
laupii,  and  while  she  looked  at  him  her 
eyes  went  backwards  in  her  head,  and 
when  she  looked  again  she  saw  differently, 
for  in  that  space  knowledge  had  put  forth 
a  bud  and  a  blossom  and  she  looked  through 
knowledge.  She  saw  herself  and  the  demon 
and  the  man,  and  she  prayed  to  the  demon. 
As  she  prayed  she  gathered  small  blue 


120  THE   DEMI-GODS 

flowers  that  peered  sparsely  among  the 
crags,  and  she  made  a  chaplet  of  these. 
She  wove  them  with  tears  and  sighs,  and 
when  the  chaplet  was  made  she  put  it 
to  the  demon's  hand,  praying  him  to  bear 
it  to  the  man. 

"He  did  that  for  her  because  he  loved 
to  laugh  at  their  trouble,  and  he  divined 
laughter  for  his  iron  chaps. 

"So  the  demon  came  terribly  to  the 
man  as  he  walked  under  the  swaying  and 
lifting  of  green  boughs  in  the  long  grass 
of  an  orchard,  and  he  put  the  chaplet  in 
the  man's  hand,  saying : 

"'My  concubine,  your  beloved,  sends  a 
greeting  to  you  with  her  love  and  this 
garland  of  blue  flowers  which  she  has 
woven  with  her  two  hands  in  hell.' 

"The  man,  looking  on  these  flowers,  felt 
his  heart  move  within  him  like  water. 

" '  Bring  her  to  me,'  said  he  to  the  demon. 

" '  I  will  not  do  so,'  replied  the  Misery. 

"And,  suddenly,  the  man  leaped  on  the 
Spectre.  He  locked  his  arms  about  that 


EILEEN    NI   COOLEY          121 

cold  neck,  and  clung  furiously  with  his 
knees. 

" '  Then  I  will  go  to  her  with  you/  said  he. 

"And  together  they  went  headlong  down 
the  pit,  and  as  they  fell  they  battled  fright 
fully  in  the  dark  pitch." 


CHAPTER  XVII 

MAC  CANN  was  asleep,  but  when  Finaun's 
voice  ceased  he  awakened  and  stretched 
himself  with  a  loud  yawn. 

"I  didn't  hear  a  word  of  that  story," 
said  he. 

"I  heard  it,"  said  Eileen  Ni  Cooley; 
"it  was  a  good  story." 

"What  was  it  about?" 

"I  don't  know,"  she  replied. 

"Do  you  know  what  it  was  about, 
Mary?" 

"I  do  not,  for  I  was  thinking  about 
other  things  at  the  time." 

Finaun  took  her  hand. 

"There  was  no  need  for  any  of  you  to 
know  what  that  story  was  about,  excepting 
you  only,"  and  he  looked  very  kindly  at 
Eileen  Ni  Cooley. 

"P listened  to  it,"  said  she;  "and  it 
was  a  good  story.  I  know  what  it  was 

122 


EILEEN   NI   COOLEY  123 

about,  but  I  would  not  know  how  to  tell 
what  it  was  about." 

"It  must  have  been  the  queer  yarn," 
said  Patsy  regretfully;  "I  wish  I  hadn't 
gone  to  sleep." 

"I  was  awake  for  you,"  said  Caeltia. 

"What's  the  use  of  that?"  said  Patsy 
testily. 

It  was  still  raining. 

The  day  was  far  advanced  and  evening 
was  spinning  her  dull  webs  athwart  the 
sky.  Already  in  the  broken  house  the 
light  had  diminished  to  a  brown  gloom, 
and  their  faces  looked  watchful  and  pale 
to  each  other  as  they  crouched  on  the 
earthen  floor.  Silence  was  again  seizing 
on  them,  and  each  person's  eyes  were 
focussing  on  some  object  or  point  on  the 
wall  or  the  floor  as  their  thoughts  began 
to  hold  them. 

Mac  Cann  roused  himself. 

"We  are  here  for  the  night;  that  rain 
won't  stop  as  long  as  there's  a  drop  left 
in  its  can." 


I24  THE   DEMI-GODS 

Mary  bestirred  herself  also. 

"I'll  slip  down  to  the  cart  and  bring 
back  whatever  food  is  in  it.  I  left  every 
thing  covered  and  I  don't  think  they'll 
be  too  wet." 

"Do  that,"  said  her  father. 

"There's  a  big  bottle  rolled  up  in  a 
sack,"  he  continued;  "it's  in  a  bucket 
at  the  front  of  the  cart  by  the  right  shaft, 
and  there's  a  little  sup  of  whisky  in  the 
big  bottle." 

"I'll  bring  that  too." 

"You're  a  good  girl,"  said  he. 

"What  will  I  do  with  the  ass  this  night  ?  " 
said  Mary. 

"Hit  him  a  kick,"  said  her  father. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE  ass  stood  quietly  where  he  had  been 
left. 

Rain  was  pouring  from  him  as  though  he 
were  the  father  of  rivers  and  supplied  the 
world  with  running  water.  It  dashed  off 
his  flanks ;  it  leaped  down  his  tail ;  it 
foamed  over  his  forehead  to  his  nose,  and 
hit  the  ground  from  there  with  a  thump. 

"I'm  very  wet,"  said  the  ass  to  himself, 
"and  I  wish  I  wasn't." 

His  eyes  were  fixed  on  a  brown  stone 
that  had  a  knob  on  its  back.  Every  drop 
of  rain  that  hit  the  stone  jumped  twice 
and  then  spattered  to  the  ground.  After 
a  moment  he  spoke  to  himself  again : 

"I  don't  care  whether  it  stops  raining 
or  not,  for  I  can't  be  any  wetter  than  I 
am,  however  it  goes." 

Having  said  this,  he  dismissed  the 
125 


126  THE   DEMI-GODS 

weather  and  settled  himself  to  think.  He 
hung  his  head  slightly  and  fixed  his  eyes 
afar  off,  and  he  stared  distantly  like  that 
without  seeing  anything  while  he  gathered 
and  revolved  his  thoughts. 

The  first  thing  he  thought  about  was 
carrots. 

He  thought  of  their  shape,  their  colour, 
and  the  way  they  looked  in  a  bucket. 
Some  would  have  the  thick  end  stuck  up, 
and  some  would  have  the  other  end  stuck 
up,  and  there  were  always  bits  of  clay 
sticking  to  one  end  or  the  other.  Some 
would  be  lying  on  their  sides  as  though 
they  had  slipped  quietly  to  sleep,  and 
some  would  be  standing  in  a  slanting  way 
as  though  they  were  leaning  their  backs 
against  a  wall  and  couldn't  make  up  their 
minds  what  to  do  next.  But,  however 
they  looked  in  the  bucket,  they  all  tasted 
alike,  and  they  all  tasted  well.  They  are 
a  companionable  food  ;  they  make  a  pleas 
ant,  crunching  noise  when  they  are  bitten, 
and  so,  when  one  is  eating  carrots,  one 


EILEEN   NI   COOLEY          127 

can  listen  to  the  sound  of  one's  eating  and 
make  a  story  from  it. 

Thistles  make  a  swishing  noise  when 
they  are  bitten ;  they  have  their  taste. 

Grass  does  not  make  any  noise  at  all ;  it 
slips  dumbly  to  the  sepulchre,  and  makes 
no  sign. 

Bread  makes  no  sound  when  it  is  eaten 
by  an  ass ;  it  has  an  interesting  taste,  and 
it  clings  about  one's  teeth  for  a  long  time. 

Apples  have  a  good  smell  and  a  joyful 
crunch,  but  the  taste  of  sugar  lasts  longer 
in  the  mouth,  and  can  be  remembered  for 
longer  than  anything  else ;  it  has  a  short, 
sharp  crunch  that  is  like  a  curse,  and  in 
stantly  it  blesses  you  with  the  taste  of  it. 

Hay  can  be  eaten  in  great  mouthfuls. 
It  has  a  chip  and  a  crack  at  the  first  bite, 
and  then  it  says  no  more.  It  sticks  out 
of  one's  mouth  like  whiskers,  and  you  can 
watch  it  with  your  eye  while  it  moves  to 
and  fro  according  as  your  mouth  moves. 
It  is  a  friendly  food,  and  very  good  for  the 
hungry. 


128  THE   DEMI-GODS 

Oats  are  not  a  food ;  they  are  a  great 
blessing ;  they  are  a  debauch ;  they  make 
you  proud,  so  that  you  want  to  kick  the 
front  out  of  a  cart,  and  climb  a  tree,  and 
bite  a  cow,  and  chase  chickens. 

Mary  came  running  and  unyoked  him 
from  the  cart.  She  embraced  him  on  the 
streaming  nose.  "  You  poor  thing,  you!" 
said  she,  and  she  took  a  large  paper  bag 
from  the  cart  and  held  it  to  his  muzzle. 
There  was  soft  sugar  in  the  bag,  and  half 
a  pound  of  it  clove  to  his  tongue  at  the 
first  lick. 

As  she  went  back  to  the  house  with  the 
bundle  of  food  the  ass  regarded  her. 

"You  are  a  good  girl,"  said  the  ass. 

He  shook  himself  and  dissipated  his 
thoughts ;  then  he  trotted  briskly  here 
and  there  on  the  path  to  see  if  there  was 
anything  worth  looking  for. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THEY  shared  the  food :  there  was  little 
of  it,  and  some  of  it  was  wet ;  but  they 
each  had  a  piece  of  bread,  a  knuckle  of 
cheese,  and  three  cold  potatoes. 

Mary  said  there  was  something  wrong 
with  her,  and  she  passed  two  of  her  cold 
potatoes  to  the  cherub  Art,  who  ate  them 
easily. 

"I  wish  you  had  given  them  to  me," 
said  her  father. 

"I'll  give  you  one  of  mine,"  said  Eileen 
Ni  Cooley,  and  she  thrust  one  across  to  him. 

Mac  Cann  pushed  it  entire  into  his 
mouth,  and  ate  it  as  one  who  eats  in  a 
trance  :  he  stared  at  Eileen. 

"Why  did  you  give  me  your  potato?" 
said  he. 

Eileen  blushed  until  not  a  single  freckle 
in  her  face  was  visible. 


130  THE  DEMI-GODS 

"I  don't  know,"  she  answered. 

"You  don't  seem  to  know  anything  at 
all  this  day,"  he  complained.  "You're 
full  of  fun,"  said  he. 

He  lit  his  pipe,  and,  after  pulling  for  a 
while  at  it,  he  handed  it  to  the  woman. 

"Take  a  draw  at  that  pipe,"  he  com 
manded,  "and  let  us  be  decent  with  each 
other." 

Eileen  Ni  Cooley  did  take  a  draw  at 
the  pipe,  but  she  handed  it  back  soon. 

"I  never  was  much  at  the  smoking," 
said  she. 

Caeltia  had  his  pipe  going  at  full  blast. 
He  was  leaning  against  the  wall  with  his 
eyes  half  closed,  and  was  thinking  deeply 
between  puffs. 

Finaun  had  a  good  grip  on  Mary's  hair, 
which  he  was  methodically  plaiting  and  un 
loosening  again.  He  was  sunken  in  reverie. 

Mary  was  peeping  from  beneath  her  lids 
at  Art,  and  was  at  the  same  time  watching 
everybody  else  to  see  that  she  was  not 
observed. 


EILEEN  NI   COOLEY          131 

Art  was  whistling  to  himself  in  a  low 
tone,  and  he  was  looking  fixedly  at  a 
spider. 

The  spider  was  hauling  on  a  loose  rope  of 
his  tent,  and  he  was  very  leisurely.  One 
would  have  thought  that  he  was  smoking 
also. 

"What  did  you  have  for  dinner  ?"  said 
Art  to  the  spider. 

"Nothing,  sir,  but  a  little,  thin,  wisp  of 
a  young  fly,"  said  the  spider. 

He  was  a  thick-set,  heavy  kind  of  spider, 
and  he  seemed  to  be  middle-aged,  and 
resigned  to  it. 

"That  is  all  I  had  myself, "  said  Art. 
"Are  the  times  bad  with  you  now,  or  are 
they  middling?" 

"Not  so  bad,  glory  be  to  God!  The 
flies  do  wander  in  through  the  holes,  and 
when  they  come  from  the  light  outside  to 
the  darkness  in  here,  sir,  we  catch  them 
on  the  wall,  and  we  crunch  their  bones." 

"Do  they  like  that?" 

"They   do   not,    sir,    but   we   do.     The 


132  THE   DEMI-GODS 

lad  with  the  stout,  hairy  legs,  down  there 
beside  your  elbow,  caught  a  blue-bottle 
yesterday  ;  there  was  eating  on  that  fellow, 
I  tell  you,  and  he's  not  all  eaten  yet,  but 
that  spider  is  always  lucky,  barring  the 
day  he  caught  the  wasp." 

"That  was  a  thing  he  didn't  like?" 
queried  Art. 

"Don't  mention  it  to  him,  sir,  he  doesn't 
care  to  talk  about  it." 

"What  way  are  you  going  to  fasten  up 
your  rope  ?  "  said  Art. 

"I'll  put  a  spit  on  the  end  of  it,  and  then 
I'll  thump  it  with  my  head  to  make  it 
stick." 

"Well,  good  luck  to  yourself." 

"Good  luck  to  your  honour." 

Said  Patsy  to  Caeltia,  pointing  to  Finaun : 

"What  does  he  be  thinking  about  when 
he  gets  into  them  fits?" 

"He  does  be  talking  to  the  hierarchy," 
replied  Caeltia. 

"And  who  are  themselves?" 


EILEEN   NI   COOLEY          133 


"They  are  the  people  in  charge  of  this 
world." 

"Is  it  the  kings  and  the  queens  and  the 
Holy  Pope?" 

"No,  they  are  different  kinds  of  people." 

Patsy  yawned. 

"What  does  he  be  talking  to  them 
about?" 

"Every  kind  of  thing,"  replied  Caeltia, 
and  yawned  also.  "They  are  asking  him 
for  advice  now." 

"What  is  he  saying?" 

"He  is  talking  about  love,"  said  Caeltia. 

"He  is  always  talking  about  that,"  said 
Patsy. 

"And,"  said  Caeltia,  "he  is  talking 
about  knowledge." 

"It's  another  word  of  his." 

"And  he  is  saying  that  love  and 
knowledge  are  the  same  thing." 

"I  wouldn't  put  it  past  him,"  said  Patsy. 

For  he  was  in  a  bad  temper.  Either 
the  close  confinement,  or  the  dull  weather, 


134  THE   DEMI-GODS 

or  the  presence  of  Eileen  Ni  Cooley,  or 
all  of  these,  had  made  him  savage. 

He  arose  and  began  striding  through  the 
narrow  room,  kicking  stones  from  one  side 
of  the  place  to  the  other  and  glooming 
fiercely  at  everybody.  Twice  he  halted 
before  Eileen  Ni  Cooley,  staring  at  her, 
and  twice,  without  a  word  said,  he  resumed 
his  marching. 

Suddenly  he  leaned  his  back  against  the 
wall  facing  her,  and  shouted : 

"Well,  Eileen  a  grah,  the  man  went 
away  from  you,  the  man  with  the  big 
stick  and  the  lengthy  feet.  Ah !  that's 
a  man  you'd  be  crying  out  for  and  you 
all  by  yourself  in  the  night." 

"He  was  a  good  man,"  said  Eileen; 
"there  was  no  harm  in  that  man, 
Padraig." 

"Maybe  he  used  to  be  putting  his  two 
arms  around  you  now  and  then  beside  a 
hedge  and  giving  you  long  kisses  on  the 
mouth?" 

"He  used  to  be  doing  that/' 


EILEEN   NI   COOLEY  135 

"Aye  did  he,  indeed,  and  he  wasn't  the 
first  man  to  do  that,  Eileen." 

"Maybe  you're  right,  Padraig." 

"Nor  the  twenty-first." 

"You've  got  me  here  in  the  house, 
Padraig,  and  the  people  around  us  are 
your  own  friends." 

Caeltia  also  had  arisen  to  his  feet  and 
was  staring  morosely  at  Eileen.  Suddenly 
he  leaped  to  her,  wrenched  the  shawl  from 
her  head  with  a  wide  gesture,  and  gripped 
her  throat  between  his  hands ;  as  her 
head  touched  the  ground  she  gasped,  and 
then,  and  just  as  suddenly,  he  released 
her.  He  stood  up,  looking  wildly  at  Patsy, 
who  stared  back  at  him  grinning  like  a 
madman,  then  he  stumbled  across  to  Fin- 
aun  and  took  his  hands  between  his  own. 

"You  must  not  hurt  me,  my  dear," 
said  Finaun,  smiling  gravely  at  him. 

Mary  had  leaped  to  Art,  whose  arm  she 
took,  and  they  backed  to  the  end  of  the 
room. 

Eileen  stood  up ;   she  arranged  her  dress 


136  THE   DEMI-GODS 

and  wrapped  the  shawl  about  her  head 
again ;  she  gazed  fearlessly  at  Mac  Cann. 

"The  house  is  full  of  your  friends, 
Padraig,  and  there's  nobody  here  with 
me  at  all ;  there's  no  man  could  want 
better  than  that  for  himself/' 

Patsy's  voice  was  hoarse. 

"  You're  looking  for  fight  ?" 

"I'm  looking  for  whatever  is  coming," 
she  replied  steadily. 

"I'm  coming,  then,"  he  roared,  and  he 
strode  to  her.  He  lifted  his  hands  above 
his  head,  and  brought  them  down  so 
heavily  on  her  shoulders  that  she  staggered. 

"Here  I  am,"  said  he,  staring  into  her 
face. 

She  closed  her  eyes. 

"I  knew  it  wasn't  love  you  wanted, 
Padraig;  it  was  murder  you  wanted,  and 
you  have  your  wish." 

She  was  swaying  under  his  weight  as 
she  spoke ;  her  knees  were  giving  beneath 
her. 

"Eileen,"  said  Patsy,  in  a  small  voice, 


EILEEN   NI   COOLEY          137 

"I'm  going  to  tumble;  I  can't  hold  my 
self  up,  Eileen ;  my  knees  are  giving  way 
under  me,  and  I've  only  got  my  arms 
round  your  neck." 

She  opened  her  eyes  and  saw  him  sagging 
against  her,  with  his  eyes  half  closed  and 
his  face  gone  white. 

"Sure,  Padraig  !"  said  she. 

She  flung  her  arms  about  his  body  and 
lifted  him,  but  the  weight  was  too  much, 
and  he  went  down. 

She  crouched  by  him  on  the  floor,  hugging 
his  head  against  her  breast. 

"Sure,  listen  to  me,  Padraig;  I  never 
did  like  any  one  in  the  world  but  yourself ; 
there  wasn't  a  man  of  them  all  was  more 
to  me  than  a  blast  of  wind ;  you  were  the 
one  I  liked  always.  Listen  to  me  now, 
Padraig.  Don't  I  be  wanting  you  day 
and  night,  and  saying  prayers  to  you  in 
the  darkness  and  crying  out  in  the  dawn ; 
my  heart  is  sore  for  you,  so  it  is :  there's 
a  twist  in  us,  O  my  dear.  Don't  you  be 
minding  the  men ;  whatever  they  did  it 


138  THE   DEMI-GODS 

was  nothing,  it  was  nothing  more  than 
beasts  playing  in  a  field  and  not  caring 
anything.  We  are  beside  one  another  for 
a  minute  now.  When  I  would  put  my 
hand  on  my  breast  in  the  middle  of  a 
laugh  it  was  you  I  was  touching,  and  I 
do  never  stop  thinking  of  you  in  any  place 
under  the  sky." 

They  were  kissing  each  other  like  lost 
souls ;  they  babbled  and  clung  to  each 
other;  they  thrust  one  another's  head 
back  to  stare  at  it,  and  pursued  the  head 
with  their  violent  lips. 

It  was  a  time  before  they  all  got  to  sleep 
that  night,  but  they  did  sleep  at  the  end 
of  it. 

They  stretched  in  the  darkness  with 
their  eyes  closed,  and  the  night  folded 
them  around,  separating  each  one  from 
his  fellow,  and  putting  on  each  the  en 
chantment  of  silence  and  blindness.  They 
were  no  longer  together  although  they 
were  lying  but  a  few  inches  apart ;  there 


EILEEN   NI   COOLEY          139 

was  only  the  darkness  that  had  no  inches 
to  it ;  the  darkness  that  has  no  beginning 
and  no  end ;  that  appears  and  disappears, 
calling  hush  as  it  comes  and  goes,  and 
holding  peace  and  terror  in  either  invisible 
hand  ;  there  was  no  silver  moon  in  the  sky 
and  no  sparkle  of  white  stars ;  there  was 
only  darkness  and  silence  and  the  steady 
hushing  of  the  rain. 

When  he  awoke  in  the  morning  Mac  Cann 
rolled  urgently  on  his  elbow  and  stared  to 
where  Eileen  Ni  Cooley  had  stretched 
herself  for  sleep  —  but  she  was  not  there, 
she  was  not  anywhere. 

He  shouted,  and  the  company  sprang 
to  their  feet. 

"She  got  out  through  the  window, "  he 
roared. 

"The  devil  damn  the  soul  of  her,"  said 
he. 


r 


BOOK    III 
BRIEN   O'BRIEN 


CHAPTER  XX 

THEY  continued  their  travels. 

It  would  be  more  correct  to  say  they 
continued  their  search  for  food,  for  that  in 
reality  was  the  objective  of  each  day's 
journeying. 

Moving  thus,  day  by  day,  taking  practi 
cally  any  road  that  presented  itself,  they 
had  wandered  easily  through  rugged,  beau 
tiful  Donegal  down  into  Connaught.  They 
had  camped  on  the  slopes  of  rough  moun 
tains,  slept  peacefully  in  deep  valleys 
that  wound  round  and  round  like  a  cork 
screw,  traversed  for  weeks  in  Connemara 
by  the  clamorous  sea  where  they  lived 
sumptuously  on  fish,  and  then  they  struck 
to  the  inland  plains  again,  and  away  by 
curving  paths  to  the  County  Kerry. 

At  times  Mac  Cann  got  work  to  do  —  to 
mend  a  kettle  that  had  a  little  hole  in  it,  to 

143 


144  THE   DEMI-GODS 

stick  a  handle  on  a  pot,  to  stiffen  the  last 
days  of  a  bucket  that  was  already  long  past 
its  labour,  and  he  did  these  jobs  sitting  in 
the  sunlight  on  dusty  roads,  and  if  he  did 
not  do  them  Mary  did  them  for  him  while 
he  observed  her  critically  and  explained 
both  to  her  and  to  his  company  the  mys 
tery  of  the  tinker's  craft. 

"There's  a  great  deal,"  he  would  say, 
"in  the  twist  of  the  hand." 

And  again,  but  this  usually  to  Art  when 
that  cherub  tried  his  skill  on  a  rusty  pot : 

"You'll  never  make  a  good  tinker  unless 
you've  got  a  hand  on  you.  Keep  your 
feet  in  your  boots^and  get  to  work  with 
your  fingers." 

And  sometimes  he  would  nod  contentedly 
at  Mary  and  say : 

"There's  a  girl  with  real  hands  on  her 
that  aren't  feet." 

Hands  represented  to  him  whatever  of 
praiseworthy  might  be  spoken  of  by  a 
man,  but  feet  were  in  his  opinion  rightly 
covered,  and  ought  not  to  be  discovered 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  145 

except  in  minatory  conversation.  One  ran 
on  them  !  Well,  it  was  a  dog's  trade,  or 
a  donkey's ;  but  hands  !  he  expanded  to 
that  subject,  and  could  loose  thereon  a 
gale  of  praise  that  would  blow  all  other 
conversation  across  the  border. 

They  set  their  camp  among  roaring  fairs 
where  every  kind  of  wild  man  and  woman 
yelled  salutation  at  Patsy  and  his  daughter, 
and  howled  remembrance  of  ten  and  twenty- 
year  old  follies,  and  plunged  into  drink 
with  the  savage  alacrity  of  those  to  whom 
despair  is  a  fairer  brother  than  hope,  and 
with  some  of  these  people  the  next  day's 
journey  would  be  shared,  rioting  and 
screaming  on  the  lonely  roads,  and  these 
people  also  the  angels  observed  and  were 
friendly  with. 

One  morning  they  were  pacing  on  their 
journey.  The  eyes  of  the  little  troop 
were  actively  scanning  the  fields  on  either 
hand.  They  were  all  hungry,  for  they 
had  eaten  nothing  since  the  previous  mid 
day.  But  these  fields  were  barren  of 


146  THE   DEMI-GODS 

food.  Great  stretches  of  grass  stretched 
away  to  either  horizon,  and  there  was 
nothing  here  that  could  be  eaten  except 
by  the  donkey. 

As  they  went  they  saw  a  man  sitting  on 
a  raised  bank.  His  arms  were  folded ;  he 
had  a  straw  in  his  mouth ;  there  was  a 
broad  grin  on  his  red  face ;  a  battered 
hat  was  thrust  far  back  on  his  head,  and 
from  beneath  this  a  brush  of  stiff  hair 
poked  in  any  direction  like  an  ill-tied 
bundle  of  black  wire. 

Mac  Cann  stared  at  that  red  joviality. 

"There's  a  man,"  said  he  to  Caeltia, 
"that  hasn't  got  a  care  in  the  world." 

"It  must  be  very  bad  for  him,"  com 
mented  Caeltia. 

"Holloa,  mister,"  cried  Patsy  heartily, 
"how's  everything?" 

"Everything's  fine,"  beamed  the  man, 
"how's  yourself?" 

"We're  holding  up,  glory  be  to  God  !" 

"That's  the  way." 

He  waved  his  hand  against  the  horizon. 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  147 

"There's  weather  for  you,"  and  he  spoke 
with  the  proud  humility  of  one  who  had 
made  that  weather;  but  would  not  boast. 
His  eye  was  steady  on  Mac  Cann. 

"I've  got  a  hunger  on  me  that's  worth 
feeding,  mister." 

"We've  all  got  that,"  replied  Patsy, 
"and  there's  nothing  in  the  cart  barring 
its  timbers.  I'm  keeping  an  eye  out,  tho', 
and  maybe  we'll  trip  over  a  side  of  bacon  in 
the  middle  of  the  road  or  a  neat  little  patch 
of  potatoes  in  the  next  field  and  it  full  of 
the  flowery  boyoes." 

"There's  a  field  a  mile  up  this  road," 
said  the  man,  "and  everything  you  could 
talk  about  is  in  that  field." 

"Do  you  tell  me  !"  said  Patsy  briskly. 

"I  do:  every  kind  of  thing  is  in  that 
field,  and  there's  rabbits  at  the  foot  of  the 
hill  beyond  it." 

"I  used  to  have  a  good  shot  with  a  stone," 
said  Patsy. 

"Mary,"  he  continued,  "when  we  come 
to  the  field  let  yourself  and  Art  gather  up 


148  THE   DEMI-GODS 

the  potatoes  while  Caeltia  and  myself  take 
stones  in  our  hands  to  kill  the  rabbits.'* 

"I'm  coming  along  with  you,"  said  the 
man,  "and  I'll  get  my  share." 

"You  can  do  that,"  said  Patsy. 

The  man  scrambled  down  the  bank. 
There  was  something  between  his  knees  of 
which  he  was  very  careful. 

"What  sort  of  a  thing  is  that?"  said 
Mary. 

"It's  a  concertina  and  I  do  play  tunes  on 
it  before  the  houses,  and  that's  how  I  make 
my  money." 

"The  musiciner  will  give  us  a  tune  after 
we  get  a  feed,"  said  Patsy. 

"Sure  enough,"  said  the  man. 

Art  stretched  out  his  hand. 

"Let  me  have  a  look  at  the  musical  in 
strument,"  said  he. 

The  man  handed  it  to  him  and  fell  into 
pace  beside  Patsy  and  Caeltia.  Mary  and 
Finaun  were  going  as  usual  one  on  either 
side  of  the  ass,  and  the  three  of  them  re 
turned  to  their  interrupted  conversation. 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  149 

Every  dozen  paces  Finaun  would  lean  to 
the  border  of  the  road  and  pluck  a  fist 
ful  of  prime  grass  or  a  thistle  or  a  clutch  of 
chickweed,  and  he  would  put  these  to  the 
ass's  mouth. 

Patsy  was  eyeing  the  man. 

"What's  your  name,  mister?"  said  he. 

"I  was  known  as  Old  Carolan,  but  now 
the  people  call  me  Billy  the  Music." 

"  How  is  it  that  I  never  met  you  before  ?  " 

"I'm  from  Connemara." 

"I  know  every  cow-track  and  bohereen 
in  Connemara,  and  I  know  every  road  in 
Donegal  and  Kerry,  and  I  know  everybody 
that's  on  them  roads,  but  I  don't  know  you, 
mister." 

The  man  laughed  at  him. 

"I'm  not  long  on  the  roads,  so  how  could 
you  know  me  ?  What  are  you  called  your 
self?" 

"I'm  called  Padraig  Mac  Cann." 

"  I  know  you  well,  for  you  stole  a  hen  and 
a  pair  of  boots  off  me  ten  months  ago  when 
I  lived  in  a  house." 


ISO  THE   DEMI-GODS 

"Do  you  tell  me?"  said  Mac  Cann. 

"  I  do  ;  and  I  never  grudged  them  to  you, 
for  that  was  the  day  that  everything 
happened  to  me." 

Mac  Cann  was  searching  his  head  to  find 
from  whom  he  had  stolen  a  hen  and  a  pair 
of  boots  at  the  one  time. 

"Well,  glory  be  to  God!"  he  cried. 
"Isn't  it  the  queer  world!  Are  you  old 
Carolan,  the  miserly  man  of  Temple  Ca- 
hill?" 

The  man  laughed  and  nodded. 

"  I  used  to  be  him,  but  now  I'm  Billy  the 
Music,  and  there's  my  instrument  under  the 
boy's  oxter." 

Patsy  stared  at  him. 

"And  where's  the  house  and  the  cattle, 
and  the  hundred  acres  of  grass  land  and 
glebe,  and  the  wife  that  people  said  you 
used  to  starve  the  stomach  out  of?" 

"Faith,  I  don't  know  where  they  are,  and 
I  don't  care  either,"  and  he  shook  with  the 
laughter  as  he  said  it. 

"And  your  sister  that  killed  herself  climb- 


BRIEN  O'BRIEN  151 

ing  out  of  a  high  window  on  a  windy  night 
to  search  for  food  among  the  neighbours  ?" 

"She's  dead  still,"  said  the  man,  and  he 
doubled  up  with  glee. 

"I  declare,"  said  Patsy,  "that  it's  the 
end  of  the  world." 

The  man  broke  on  his  eloquence  with  a 
pointed  finger. 

"There's  the  field  I  was  telling  you  about 
and  it's  weighty  to  the  ribs  with  potatoes 
and  turnips." 

Patsy  turned  to  his  daughter. 

"Gather  in  the  potatoes;  don't  take 
them  all  from  the  one  place,  but  take 
them  from  here  and  there  the  way  they 
won't  be  missed,  and  then  go  along  the  road 
with  the  cart  for  twenty  minutes  and  be 
cooking  them.  Myself  and  Caeltia  will 
catch  up  on  you  in  a  little  time  and  we'll 
bring  good  meat  with  us." 

Caeltia  and  he  moved  to  the  right  where  a 
gentle  hill  rose  against  the  sky.  The  hill 
was  thickly  wooded,  massive  clumps  of  trees 
were  dotted  every  little  distance,  and 


152  THE   DEMI-GODS 

through  these  one  could  see  quiet,  green 
spaces  drowsing  in  the  sun. 

When  they  came  to  the  fringing  trees 
Patsy  directed  his  companion  to  go  among 
them  some  little  distance  and  then  to  charge 
here  and  there,  slashing  against  the  trees 
and  the  ground  with  a  stick. 

Caeltia  did  that,  and  at  the  end  of  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  Patsy  had  three  rabbits 
stretched  under  his  hand. 

" That's  good  enough,"  he  called ;  "we'll 
go  on  now  after  the  people." 

They  stowed  the  rabbits  under  their  coats 
and  took  the  road. 

They  soon  caught  on  their  companions. 
The  cart  was  drawn  to  the  side  of  the  road, 
at  a  little  distance  the  ass  was  browsing,  and 
Mary  had  a  fire  going  in  the  brazier  and  the 
potatoes  ready  for  the  pot. 

Patsy  tossed  the  rabbits  to  her. 

"There  you  are,  my  girl,"  said  he,  and, 
with  Caeltia,  he  sank  down  on  the  grassy 
margin  of  the  road  and  drew  out  his  pipe. 

The  strange  man  was  sitting  beside  Art, 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  153 

to  whom  he  was  explaining  the  mechanism 
of  a  concertina. 

"While  we  are  waiting,"  said  Patsy  to 
him,  "you  can  tell  us  all  the  news ;  tell  us 
what  happened  to  the  land  and  what  you're 
doing  on  the  road ;  and  there  is  a  bit  of 
twist  to  put  in  your  pipe  so  that  you'll 
talk  well." 

Mary  broke  in : 

"Wait  a  minute  now,  for  I  want  to  hear 
that  story ;  let  yourself  help  me  over  with 
the  brazier  and  we  can  all  sit  together." 

There  was  a  handle  to  the  bucket  and 
through  this  they  put  a  long  stick  and  lifted 
all  bodily  to  the  butt  of  the  hedge. 

"Now  we  can  sit  together,"  said  Mary, 
"and  I  can  be  cooking  the  food  and  listening 
to  the  story  at  the  same  time." 

"I'd  sooner  give  you  a  tune  on  the  con 
certina,"  said  Billy  the  Music. 

"You  can  do  that  afterwards,"  replied 
Patsy. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

"I'LL  tell  you  the  story/'  said  Billy  the 
Music,  "and  here  it  is : 

"A  year  ago  I  had  a  farm  in  the  valley. 
The  sun  shone  into  it,  and  the  wind  didn't 
blow  into  it  for  it  was  well  sheltered,  and  the 
crops  that  I  used  to  take  off  that  land  would 
astonish  you. 

"I  had  twenty  head  of  cattle  eating  the 
grass,  and  they  used  to  get  fat  quick  and 
they  used  to  give  good  milk  into  the  bargain. 
I  had  cocks  and  hens  for  the  eggs  and  the 
market,  and  there  was  a  good  many  folk 
would  have  been  glad  to  get  my  farm. 

"There  were  ten  men  always  working  on 
the  place,  but  at  harvest-time  there  would 
be  a  lot  more,  and  I  used  to  make  them  work 
too.  Myself  and  my  son  and  my  wife's 
brother  (a  lout,  that  fellow !)  used  to  run 
after  the  men,  but  it  was  hard  to  keep  up 

154 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  155 

with  them,  for  they  were  great  schemers. 
They  tried  to  do  as  little  work  as  ever  they 
were  able,  and  they  tried  to  get  as  much 
money  out  of  me  as  they  could  manage. 
But  I  was  up  to  them  lads,  and  it's  mighty 
little  they  got  out  of  me  without  giving 
twice  as  much  for  it. 

11  Bit  by  bit  I  weeded  out  the  men  until  at 
last  I  only  had  the  ones  I  wanted,  the  tried 
and  trusty  men.  They  were  a  poor  lot,  and 
they  didn't  dare  to  look  back  at  me  when  I 
looked  at  them  ;  but  they  were  able  to  work, 
and  that  is  all  I  wanted  them  to  do,  and  I 
saw  that  they  did  it. 

"As  I'm  sitting  beside  you  on  this  bank 
to-day  I'm  wondering  why  I  took  all  the 
trouble  I  did  take,  and  what,  in  the  name  of 
this  and  that,  I  expected  to  get  out  of  it  all. 
I  usen't  go  to  bed  until  twelve  o'clock  at 
night,  and  I  would  be  up  in  the  dawn 
before  the  birds.  Five  o'clock  in  the  morn 
ing  never  saw  me  stretching  in  the  warm 
bed,  and  every  day  I  would  root  the  men  out 
of  their  sleep  ;  often  enough  I  had  to  throw 


156  THE   DEMI-GODS 

them  out  of  bed,  for  there  wasn't  a  man  of 
them  but  would  have  slept  rings  round  the 
clock  if  he  got  the  chance. 

"Of  course  I  knew  that  they  didn't  want 
to  work  for  me,  and  that,  bating  the  hunger, 
they'd  have  seen  me  far  enough  before 
they'd  lift  a  hand  for  my  good ;  but  I  had 
them  by  the  hasp,  for  as  long  as  men  have  to 
eat,  any  man  with  the  food  can  make  them 
do  whatever  he  wants  them  to  do  ;  wouldn't 
they  stand  on  their  heads  for  twelve  hours  a 
day  if  you  gave  them  wages  ?  Aye  would 
they,  and  eighteen  hours  if  you  held  them 
to  it. 

"  I  had  the  idea  too  that  they  were  trying 
to  rob  me,  and  maybe  they  were.  It 
doesn't  seem  to  matter  now  whether  they 
robbed  me  or  not,  for  I  give  you  my  word 
that  the  man  who  wants  to  rob  me  to-day  is 
welcome  to  all  he  can  get  and  more  if  I  had 
it." 

"  Faith,  you're  the  kind  man !"  said 
Patsy. 

"Let  that  be,"  said  Billy  the  Music. 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  157 

11  The  secret  of  the  thing  was  that  I  loved 
money,  hard  money,  gold  and  silver  pieces, 
and  pieces  of  copper.  I  liked  it  better 
than  the  people  who  were  round  me.  I 
liked  it  better  than  the  cattle  and  the  crops. 
I  liked  it  better  than  I  liked  myself,  and 
isn't  that  the  queer  thing  ?  I  put  up  with 
the  silliest  ways  for  it,  and  I  lived  upside 
down  and  inside  out  for  it.  I  tell  you  I 
would  have  done  anything  just  to  get 
money,  and  when  I  paid  the  men  for  their 
labour  I  grudged  them  every  penny  that 
they  took  from  me. 

"It  did  seem  to  me  that  in  taking  my 
metal  they  were  surely  and  openly  robbing 
me  and  laughing  at  me  as  they  did  it.  I 
saw  no  reason  why  they  shouldn't  have 
worked  for  me  for  nothing,  and  if  they  had 
I  would  have  grudged  them  the  food  they 
ate  and  the  time  they  lost  in  sleeping,  and 
that's  another  queer  thing,  mind  you!" 

"If  one  of  them  men,"  said  Patsy 
solemnly,  "had  the  spunk  of  a  wandering 
goat  or  a  mangy  dog  he'd  have  taken  a 


158  THE   DEMI-GODS 

graipe  to  yourself,  mister,  and  he'd  have 
picked  your  soul  out  of  your  body  and  slung 
it  on  a  dung-heap." 

"Don't  be  thinking,"  replied  the  other, 
"that  men  are  courageous  and  fiery  animals, 
for  they're  not,  and  every  person  that  pays 
wages  to  men  knows  well  that  they're  as 
timid  as  sheep  and  twice  as  timid.  Let  me 
tell  you  too  that  all  the  trouble  wasn't  on 
their  side ;  I  had  a  share  of  it  and  a  big 
share." 

Mac  Cann  interrupted  solemnly  — 

"That's  what  the  fox  told  the  goose  when 
the  goose  said  that  the  teeth  hurted  him. 
'Look  at  the  trouble  I  had  to  catch  you,' 
said  the  fox." 

"We  won't  mind  that,"  said  Billy  the 
Music. 

"  I  was  hard  put  to  it  to  make  the  money. 
I  was  able  to  knock  a  good  profit  out  of  the 
land  and  the  beasts  and  the  men  that 
worked  for  me ;  and  then,  when  I  came  to 
turn  the  profit  into  solid  pieces,  I  found  that 
there  was  a  world  outside  of  my  world,  and 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  159 

it  was  truly  bent  on  robbing  me,  and,  what's 
more,  it  had  thought  hard  for  generations 
about  the  best  way  of  doing  it.  It  had 
made  its  scheme  so  carefully  that  I  was  as 
helpless  among  them  people  as  the  labourers 
were  with  me.  Oh  !  they  got  me,  and  they 
squeezed  me,  and  they  marched  off  smiling 
with  the  heaviest  part  of  my  gain,  and  they 
told  me  to  be  a  bit  more  polite  or  they'd 
break  me  into  bits,  and  I  was  polite  too. 
Ah  !  there's  a  big  world  outside  the  little 
world,  and  maybe  there's  a  bigger  world 
outside  that,  and  grindstones  in  it  for  all  the 
people  that  are  squeezers  in  their  own  place. 
"The  price  I  thought  fair  for  the  crop 
was  never  the  price  I  got  from  the  jobbers. 
If  I  sold  a  cow  or  a  horse  I  never  got  as  much 
as  half  of  what  I  reckoned  on.  There  were 
rings  and  cliques  in  the  markets  everywhere, 
and  they  knew  how  to  manage  me.  It  was 
they  who  got  more  than  half  the  money  I 
made,  and  they  had  me  gripped  so  that  I 
couldn't  get  away.  It  was  for  these  people 
I  used  to  be  out  of  bed  at  twelve  o'clock  at 


160  THE   DEMI-GODS 

night  and  up  again  before  the  fowl  were 
done  snoring,  and  it  was  for  them  I  tore  the 
bowels  out  of  my  land,  and  hazed  and  be 
devilled  every  man  and  woman  and  dog  that 
came  in  sight  of  me,  and  when  I  thought 
of  these  market-men  with  their  red  jowls 
and  their  'take  it  or  leave  it'  I  used  to 
get  so  full  of  rage  that  I  could  hardly 
breathe. 

"I  had  to  take  it  because  I  couldn't 
afford  to  leave  it,  and  then  I'd  go  home 
again  trying  to  cut  it  finer,  trying  to  skin 
an  extra  chance  profit  off  the  land  and 
workers,  and  I  do  wonder  now  that  the  men 
didn't  try  to  kill  me  or  didn't  commit 
suicide.  Aye,  I  wonder  that  I  didn't 
commit  suicide  myself  by  dint  of  the  rage 
and  greed  and  weariness  that  was  my  share 
of  life  day  and  night. 

^--"1  got  the  money  anyhow,  and,  sure 
enough,  the  people  must  have  thought  I  was 
the  devil's  self  ;  but  it  was  little  I  cared  what 
they  thought,  for  the  pieces  were  beginning 
to  mount  up  in  the  box,  and  one  fine  day  the 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  161 

box  got  so  full  that  not  another  penny-piece 
could  have  been  squeezed  sideways  into  it, 
so  I  had  to  make  a  new  box,  and  it  wasn't  so 
long  until  I  made  a  third  box  and  a  fourth 
one,  and  I  could  see  the  time  coming  when  I 
would  be  able  to  stand  in  with  the  market- 
men,  and  get  a  good  grip  on  whatever  might 
be  going." 

"How  much  did  you  rob  in  all?"  said 
Patsy. 

"I  had  all  of  two  thousand  pounds." 
"That's  a  lot  of  money,  I'm  thinking." 
"It  is  so,  and  it  took  a  lot  of  getting,  and 
there  was  twenty  damns  went  into  the  box 
with  every  one  of  the  yellow  pieces."       • 

"A  damn  isn't  worth  a  shilling,"  said 
Patsy.  "You  can  have  them  from  me  at 
two  for  a  ha'penny,  and  there's  lots  of 
people  would  give  them  to  yourself  for 
nothing,  you  rotten  old  robber  of  the  world  ! 
And  if  I  had  the  lump  of  twist  back  that  I 
gave  you  a  couple  of  minutes  ago  I'd  put 
it  in  my  pocket,  so  I  would,  and  I'd  sit 
on  it."  * 


162  THE   DEMI-GODS 

"  Don't  forget  that  you're  talking  about 
old  things,"  said  Billy  the  Music. 

"If  I  was  one  of  your  men,"  shouted 
Patsy,  ''you  wouldn't  have  treated  me  that 
way." 

Billy  the  Music  smiled  happily  at  him. 

"Wouldn't  I  ?"  said  he,  with  his  head  on 
one  side. 

"You  would  not,"  said  Patsy,  "for  I'd 
have  broken  your  skull  with  a  spade." 

"If  you  had  been  one  of  my  men,"  the 
other  replied  mildly,  "you'd  have  been  as 
tame  as  a  little  kitten  ;  you'd  have  crawled 
round  me  with  your  hat  in  your  hand  and 
your  eyes  turned  up  like  a  dying  duck's,  and 
you'd  have  said,  'Yes,  sir,'  and  'No,  sir,' 
like  the  other  men  that  I  welted  the  stuffing 
out  of  with  my  two  fists,  and  broke  the  spirits 
of  with  labour  and  hunger.  Don't  be  talk 
ing  now,  for  you're  an  ignorant  man  in  these 
things,  although  you  did  manage  to  steal 
a  clocking  hen  off  me  the  day  I  was  busy." 

"And  a  pair  of  good  boots,"  said  Patsy 
triumphantly. 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  163 

"Do. you  want  to  hear  the  rest  of  the 
story?" 

"I  do  so,"  said  Patsy ;  "and  I  take  back 
what  I  said  about  the  tobacco ;  here's 
another  bit  of  it  for  your  pipe." 

"Thank  you  kindly,"  replied  Billy. 

He  shook  the  ashes  from  his  pipe,  filled  it, 
and  continued  his  tale. 

"On  the  head  of  all  these  things  a  wonder 
ful  thing  happened  to  me." 

"That's  the  way  to  start,"  said  Patsy 
approvingly.  "You're  a  good  story-teller, 
mister." 

"It  isn't  so  much  that,"  replied  Billy, 
"but  it's  a  good  story  and  a  wonderful 
story." 

"The  potatoes  are  nearly  done,  Mary,  a 
grah?" 

"They'll  be  done  in  a  short  while." 

"Hold  your  story  for  a  few  minutes  until 
we  eat  the  potatoes  and  a  few  collops  of  the 
rabbits,  for  I  tell  you  that  I'm  drooping  with 
the  hunger." 

"I  didn't  eat  anything  myself,"  replied 


164  THE   DEMI-GODS 

Billy,  "  since  the  middle  of  yesterday,  and 
the  food  there  has  a  smell  to  it  that's  making 
me  mad." 

"It's  not  quite  done  yet,"  said  Mary. 

"It's  done  enough,"  replied  her  father. 
"Aren't  you  particular  this  day!  Pull  them 
over  here  and  share  them  round,  and  don't 
be  having  the  men  dying  on  your  hands." 

Mary  did  so,  and  for  five  minutes  there 
was  no  sound  except  that  of  moving  jaws, 
and  by  that  time  there  was  no  more  food 
in  sight. 

11  Ah  !"  said  Patsy  with  a  great  sigh. 

"Aye,  indeed!"  said  Billy  the  Music 
with  another  sigh. 

"Put  on  more  of  the  potatoes  now," 
Patsy  commanded  his  daughter,  "and  be 
cooking  them  against  the  time  this  story 
will  be  finished." 

"I  wish  I  had  twice  as  much  as  I  had," 
said  Art. 

"You  got  twice  as  much  as  me,"  cried 
Patsy  angrily,  "for  I  saw  the  girl  giving  it 
to  you." 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  165 

"I'm  not  complaining,"  replied  Art; 
"I'm  only  stating  a  fact." 

"That's  all  right,"  said  Patsy. 

The  pipes  were  lit,  and  all  eyes  turned  to 
Billy  the  Music.  Patsy  leaned  back  on 
his  elbow,  and  blew  his  cloud. 

"Now  we'll  have  the  rest  of  the  story," 
said  he. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

"THIS,"  continued  Billy  the  Music,  "is 
the  wonderful  thing  that  happened  to  me. 

"Bit  by  bit  I  got  fonder  of  the  money. 
The  more  I  got  of  it  the  more  I  wanted.  I 
used  to  go  away  by  myself  to  look  at  it  and 
handle  it  and  count  it.  I  didn't  store  it  all 
in  the  house ;  I  only  kept  enough  there  to 
make  the  people  think  it  was  all  there,  and  as 
every  one  was  watching  that  and  watching 
each  other  (for  they  all  wanted  to  steal  it) 
it  was  safe  enough. 

"They  didn't  know  it  was  mostly  copper 
was  in  that  box,  but  copper  it  was,  and 
some  silver  that  I  couldn't  fit  into  the  other 
boxes. 

"There  was  a  place  at  the  end  of  the  big 
barn,  just  underneath  the  dog's  kennel  — 
maybe  you  remember  my  dog,  Patsy?" 

"A  big  black-and-white  snarly  devil  of  a 
bull-terrier?"  said  Patsy,  thoughtfully. 

166 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  167 

" That's  him." 

"I  remember  him  well,"  said  Patsy.  "I 
fed  him  once." 

"You  poisoned  him,"  said  Billy  the 
Music  quickly. 

"That's  a  hard  word  to  say,"  replied 
Patsy,  scraping  at  his  chin. 

Billy  the  Music  looked  very  fixedly  at 
him,  and  he  also  scraped  meditatively  at 
his  bristles. 

" It  doesn't  matter  now,"  said  he.  "That 
was  the  dog.  I  made  a  place  under  his 
kennel.  It  was  well  made.  If  you  had 
pulled  the  kennel  aside  you'd  have  seen 
nothing  but  the  floor.  Down  there  I  kept 
the  three  boxes  of  gold,  and  while  I'd  be 
looking  at  them  the  dog  would  be  lurching 
around  wondering  why  he  wasn't  allowed  to 
eat  people  —  I  was  a  bit  timid  with  that  dog 
myself  —  and  it  was  one  day  while  I  was 
handling  the  money  that  the  thing  hap 
pened. 

"There  came  a  thump  on  the  barn  door. 
The  dog  made  a  noise  away  down  in  the  heel 


1 68  THE   DEMI-GODS 

of  his  throat  and  loped  across  ;  he  stuck  his 
nose  against  the  crack  at  the  bottom  and 
began  to  sniff  and  scratch. 

'"Strangers  there/  said  I.  I  put  the 
money  away  quietly,  lifted  the  kennel  back 
to  its  place,  and  went  over  to  open  the  door. 

"There  were  two  men  standing  outside, 
and  the  dog  sprang  for  one  of  them  as  if  he 
had  been  shot  out  of  a  gun. 

"But  that  man  was  quick.  He  took  the 
beast  on  the  jump,  caught  him  by  the 
chaps,  and  slung  him  with  a  heave  of  his 
arm.  I  don't  know  where  he  slung  him 
to;  I  never  saw  the  dog  alive  after  that, 
and  I  did  think  it  was  that  jerk  killed 
him." 

"Begor!"   said  Patsy. 

"It  must  have  been  within  half  an  hour  or 
so  that  you  gave  him  the  poisoned  meat, 
Patsy." 

"It  was  a  lengthy  mutton  bone,"  mur 
mured  Mac  Cann. 

"Whatever  it  was!"  said  Billy  the 
Music. 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  169 

"The  men  walked  in,  they  shut  the  barn 
door  behind  them  and  locked  it,  for  the 
key  was  inside  whenever  I  was. 

"Well!  I  always  had  the  use  of  my 
hands  and  my  feet  and  my  teeth,  but  I  had 
no  chance  there,  so  in  a  few  minutes  I  sat 
down  on  the  kennel  to  get  my  breath  back 
and  to  mop  up  the  blood  that  was  teeming 
out  of  my  nose.  The  two  men,  I  will  say, 
were  very  quiet  with  it  all  —  they  waited 
for  me. 

"One  of  them  was  a  middle-sized  block 
of  a  man,  and  he  looked  as  if  his  head  had 
been  rolled  in  tar  — " 

"Eh!"  said  Patsy  loudly. 

"The  other  one  was  a  big,  young  man 
with  a  girl's  face  ;  he  had  blue  eyes  and  curls 
of  gold,  and  he  was  wearing  a  woman's 
skirt  —  the  raggedest  old " 

"Begor!"  cried  Patsy,  and  he  leaped 
furiously  to  his  feet. 

"What's  wrong  with  you  ?  "  said  Billy  the 
Music. 

Patsy  beat  his  fists  together. 


170  THE   DEMI-GODS 

"I've  been  looking  for  that  pair  of  play 
boys  for  a  full  year,"  he  barked. 

"Do  you  know  them?"  said  Billy  the 
Music,  with  equal  excitement. 

"I  don't  know  them,  but  I  met  them, 
and  the  girl  yonder  met  them  too,  the 
thieves !" 

"They  are  a  pair  of  dirty  dogs,"  said 
Mary  coldly. 

"And  when  I  do  meet  them,"  said  Patsy 
savagely,  "I'll  kill  the  pair  of  them :  I  will 


so." 


Billy  the  Music  laughed. 

"I  wouldn't  try  killing  them  lads ;  I  did 
try  it  once,  but  they  wouldn't  let  me.  Tell 
us  what  they  did  to  yourself,  and  then  I'll 
go  on  with  my  story,  for  I'm  real  curious 
about  those  two."  , 

Mac  Cann  put  his  pipe  into  his  pocket. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

SAID  Patsy : 

"There  isn't  very  much  to  tell,  but  this 
is  how  it  happened. 

11  About  two  weeks  before  your  dog  died 
myself  and  the  girl  were  tramping  up  to 
wards  Dublin.  We  hadn't  got  the  ass 
with  us  that  time,  for  it  was  in  pawn  to  a 
woman  that  peddled  fish  in  the  south-west 
of  Connemara.  She  was  keeping  the  ass 
and  cart  for  us  while  we  were  away,  and  she 
was  going  to  give  us  something  for  their 
loan  at  the  heel  of  the  season.  She  was 
an  old  rip,  that  one,  for  she  sold  the  ass  on 
us  to  one  man  and  she  sold  the  cart  to 
another  man,  and  we  had  the  trouble  of 
the  world  getting  the  pair  of  them  together 
again  —  but  that's  no  matter. 

"One  morning,  fresh  and  early,  we  were 
beating  along  a  road  that  comes  down  from 

171 


172  THE   DEMI-GODS 

the  mountains  and  runs  away  into  Donny- 
brook.  I  had  just  picked  up  a  little  goose 
that  I  found  walking  along  with  its  nose  up, 
and  I  thought  maybe  we  could  sell  the 
creature  to  some  person  in  the  city  who 
wanted  a  goose. 

"We  turned  a  bend  in  the  road  (it's  a 
twisty  district),  and  there  I  saw  two  men 
sitting  on  the  grass  on  each  side  of  the 
path.  The  two  men  were  sitting  with  the 
full  width  of  the  road  between  them,  and 
they  were  clean,  stark,  stone  naked. 

"They  hadn't  got  as  much  as  a  shirt; 
they  hadn't  a  hat;  they  hadn't  got  any 
thing  at  all  on  them  barring  their  skins. 

"'Whoo  !'  said  I  to  myself,  and  I  caught 
a  grip  of  the  girl.  'We'll  be  taking  another 
road,'  said  I,  and  round  we  sailed  with  the 
goose  and  all. 

"But  the  two  men  came  after  us,  and 
what  with  the  goose  and  the  girl,  they 
caught  up  on  us  too. 

"One  of  them  was  a  bullet-headed  thief 
and  he  did  look  as  if  he  had  been  rolled  in 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  173 

tar,  and  I  hope  he  was.  The  other  was  a 
dandy  lad  that  never  got  his  hair  cut  since 
he  was  a  mother's  boy. 

"Be  off  with  the  pair  of  you/  said  I,  'ye 
indecent  devils.  What  do  ye  want  with 
honest  folk  and  you  in  your  pelt  ? ' 

"The  bullet-headed  one  was  bouncing 
round  me  like  a  rubber  ball. 

"'Take  off  your  clothes,  mister/  said 
he. 

"'What!'  said  I. 

"'Take  off  your  clothes  quick,'  said  he, 
'or  I'll  kill  you.' 

"So,  with  that  I  jumped  into  the  middle 
of  the  road,  and  I  up  with  the  goose,  and 
I  hit  that  chap  such  a  welt  on  the  head  that 
the  goose  bursted.  Then  the  lad  was  into 
me  and  we  went  round  the  road  like  thunder 
and  lightning  till  the  other  fellow  joined  in, 
and  then  Mary  welted  into  the  lot  of  us  with 
a  stick  that  she  had,  but  they  didn't  mind 
her  any  more  than  a  fly.  Before  you  could 
whistle,  mister,  they  had  me  stripped  to  the 
buff,  and  before  you  could  whistle  again 


174  THE   DEMI-GODS 

they  had  the  girl  stripped,  and  the  pair  of 
them  were  going  down  the  road  as  hard  as 
ever  they  could  pelt  with  our  clothes  under 
their  oxters." 
^Begor  !"  said  Billy  the  Music. 

"I  tell  you  so,*'  grinned  Patsy. 

"There  was  herself  and  myself  stand 
ing  in  the  middle  of  the  road  with  noth 
ing  to  cover  our  nakedness  but  a  bursted 
goose." 

"That  was  the  queer  sight,"  said 
Billy  the  Music  looking  thoughtfully  at 
Mary. 

"You  keep  your  eyes  to  yourself,  mister," 
said  Mary  hotly. 

"What  did  you  do  then  ?  "  said  Billy. 

"We  sat  down  on  the  side  of  the  road  for 
a  long  time  until  we  heard  footsteps  and 
then  we  hid  ourselves. 

"I  peeped  over  the  hedge  and  there  was 
a  man  coming  along  the  path.  He  was 
a  nice-looking  man  with  a  black  bag 
in  his  hand  and  he  was  walking  fast. 
When  he  came  exactly  opposite  me  I 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  175 

jumped  the  hedge  and  I  took  the  clothes 
off  him—  " 

Billy  the  Music  slapped  his  palm  on  his 
knee. 

"You  did  so  !" 

"  I  did  so/'  said  Patsy. 

"He  was  grumbling  all  the  time,  but  as 
soon  as  I  let  him  loose  he  started  to  run,  and 
that  was  the  last  I  saw  of  him. 

"After  a  bit  a  woman  came  along  the 
road,  and  Mary  took  the  clothes  off  her. 
She  was  a  quiet,  poor  soul,  and  she  didn't 
say  a  word  to  either  of  us.  We  left  her  the 
goose  and  the  man's  black  bag  for  payment, 
and  then  the  pair  of  us  started  off,  and  we 
didn't  stop  running  till  we  came  to  the 
County  Kerry. 

"These  are  the  clothes  I'm  telling  you 
about,"  said  Patsy;  "I  have  them  on  me 
this  minute." 

"It's  a  great  story,"  said  Billy  the 
Music. 

"I  can  tell  you  something  further  about 
these  people,"  said  Caeltia  smiling. 


176  THE   DEMI-GODS 

''Can  you  so  ?"  cried  Patsy. 

"I  can,  but  the  man  here  hasn't  finished 
what  he  was  telling  us/' 

"I  was  forgetting  him,"  said  Mac  Cann. 
"Put  another  pinch  in  your  pipe,  mister, 
and  tell  us  what  happened  to  you  after 
that." 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

BILLY  the  Music  did  put  another  pinch  of 
tobacco  into  his  pipe,  and  after  drawing  on 
it  meditatively  for  a  few  minutes  he  snuffed 
it  out  with  his  thumb  and  put  it  into  his 
pocket.  Naturally  he  put  it  in  upside 
down,  so  that  the  tobacco  might  drop  from 
the  pipe,  for  he  was  no  longer  a  saving  man. 

"They  were  surely  the  two  men  that  I'm 
telling  you  about/'  said  he,  "and  there  they 
were  standing  up  in  front  of  me  while  I  was 
sneezing  the  blood  out  of  my  nose. 

'"What  do  you  want?'  said  I  to  them 
selves,  and  all  the  time  I  was  peeping  here 
and  there  to  see  if  there  wasn't  a  bit  of  a 
stick  or  a  crowbar  maybe  lying  handy. 

"It  was  the  boyo  in  the  skirt  that  an 
swered  me : 

"'I  wanted  to  have  a  look  at  yourself,' 
said  he. 

N  177 


178  THE   DEMI-GODS 

'Take  your  eye-full  and  go  away,  for 
God's  sake,'  said  I. 

'"You  dirty  thief  !'  said  he  to  me. 

"'What's  that  for?'  said  I. 

'"What  do  you  mean  by  getting  me 
thrown  out  of  heaven  ? '  said  he. 

".  .  .  !  Well,  mister  honey,  that  was  a 
question  to  worry  any  man,  and  it  worried 
me.  I  couldn't  think  what  to  say  to  him. 
'Begor!'  said  I,  and  I  sneezed  out  some 
more  of  my  blood. 

"But  the  lad  was  stamping  mad. 

"'If  I  could  blot  you  from  the  light  of 
life  without  doing  any  hurt  to  myself,  I'd 
smash  you  this  mortal  minute,'  said  he. 

'"For  the  love  of  heaven,'  said  I,  'tell 
me  what  I  did  to  yourself,  for  I  never  did  see 
you  before  this  day,  and  I  wish  I  didn't  see 
you  now.' 

"The  bullet-headed  man  was  standing  by 
all  the  time,  and  he  chewing  tobacco. 

"'Have  it  out  with  him,  Cuchulain,' 
said  he.  'Kill  him,'  said  he,  'and  send  him 
out  among  the  spooks.' 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  179 

"But  the  other  man  calmed  down  a  bit, 
and  he  came  over  to  me  wagging  the  girl's 
skirts. 

"'Listen!'  said  he,  'I'm  the  Seraph 
Cuchulain.' 

"'Very  good,'  said  I. 

"'I'm  your  Guardian  Angel,'  said  he. 

'"Very  good,' said  I. 

'"I'm  your  Higher  Self,'  said  he,  'and 
every  rotten  business  you  do  down  here  does 
be  vibrating  against  me  up  there.  You 
never  did  anything  in  your  life  that  wasn't 
rotten.  You're  a  miser  and  a  thief,  and 
you  got  me  thrown  out  of  heaven  because  of 
the  way  you  loved  money.  You  seduced 
me  when  I  wasn't  looking.  You  made  a 
thief  of  me  in  a  place  where  it's  no  fun  to 
be  a  robber,  and  here  I  am  wandering  the 
dirty  world  on  the  head  of  your  unrighteous 
ways.  Repent,  you  beast,'  said  he,  and 
he  landed  me  a  clout  on  the  side  of  the  head 
that  rolled  me  from  one  end  of  the  barn  to 
the  other. 

" '  Give  him  another  one,'  said  the  bullet- 


i8o  THE   DEMI-GODS 

headed  man,  and  he  chewing  strongly  on 
his  plug. 

"'What  have  you  got  to  do  with  it?' 
said  I  to  him.     'You're  not  my  Guardian 
Angel,  God  help  me  ! ' 

"'How  dare  you,'  said  the  bullet-headed 
man.  '  How  dare  you  set  this  honest  party 
stealing  the  last  threepenny  bit  of  a  poor 
man  ? '  and  with  that  he  made  a  clout  at  me. 

"'What  threepenny  bit  are  you  talking 
about?'  said  I. 

"'My  own  threepenny  bit,'  said  he. 
'The  only  one  I  had.  The  one  I  dropped 
outside  the  gates  of  hell.' 

"Well,  that  beat  me!  'I  don't  care 
what  you  say  any  longer,'  said  I,  'you  can 
talk  till  you're  blue  and  I  won't  care  what 
you  say,'  and  down  I  sat  on  the  kennel  and 
shed  my  blood. 

" '  You  must  repent  of  your  own  free  will,' 
said  Cuchulain,  marching  to  the  door. 

'"And  you'd  better  hurry  up,  too,'  said  the 
otherfellow, '  or  I'll  hammerthe  head  off  you.' 

"The  queer  thing  is  that  I  believed  every 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  181 

word  the  man  said.  I  didn't  know  what  he 
was  talking  about,  but  I  did  know  that  he 
was  talking  about  something  that  was  real 
although  it  was  beyond  me.  And  there 
was  the  way  he  said  it  too,  for  he  spoke  like 
a  bishop,  with  fine,  shouting  words  that  I 
can't  remember  now,  and  the  months  gone 
past.  I  took  him  at  his  word  anyhow,  and 
on  the  minute  I  began  to  feel  a  different 
creature,  for,  mind  you,  a  man  can  no  more 
go  against  his  Guardian  Angel  than  he 
can  climb  a  tree  backwards. 

"As  they  were  going  out  of  the  barn 
Cuchulain  turned  to  me  : 

"Til  help  you  to  repent,'  said  he,  'for  I 
want  to  get  back  again,  and  this  is  the  way 
I'll  help  you.  I'll  give  you  money,  and  I'll 
give  you  piles  of  it.' 

"The  two  of  them  went  off  then,  and  I 
didn't  venture  out  of  the  barn  for  half-an- 
hour. 

"I  went  into  the  barn  next  day,  and 
what  do  you  think  I  saw  ?  " 


182  THE  DEMI-GODS 

"The  floor  was  covered  with  gold  pieces," 
said  Patsy. 

Billy  nodded : 

"That's  what  I  saw.  I  gathered  them 
up  and  hid  them  under  the  kennel.  There 
wasn't  room  for  the  lot  of  them,  so  I  rolled 
the  rest  in  a  bit  of  a  sack  and  covered  them 
up  with  cabbages. 

"The  next  day  I  went  in  and  the  floor 
was  covered  with  gold  pieces,  and  I  swept 
them  up  and  hid  them  under  the  cabbages 
too.  The  day  after  that  and  the  next  day 
and  the  day  after  that  again  it  was  the  same 
story.  I  didn't  know  where  to  put  the 
money.  I  had  to  leave  it  lying  on  the  floor, 
and  I  hadn't  as  much  as  a  dog  to  guard  it 
from  the  robbers." 

"You  had  not,"  said  Patsy,  "and  that's 
the  truth." 

"I  locked  the  barn;  then  I  called  up  all 
the  men ;  I  paid  them  their  wages,  for  what 
did  I  want  with  them  any  longer  and  I 
rolling  in  gold  ?  I  told  them  to  get  out  of 
my  sight,  and  I  saw  every  man  of  them  off 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  183 

the  land.  Then  I  told  my  wife's  brother 
that  I  didn't  want  him  in  my  house  any 
longer,  and  I  saw  him  off  the  land.  Then 
I  argued  my  son  out  of  the  house,  and  I 
told  my  wife  that  she  could  go  with  him 
if  she  wanted  to,  and  then  I  went  back  to 
the  barn. 

"But,  as  I  told  you  a  minute  ago,  I  was  a 
changed  man.  The  gold  was  mounting  up 
on  me,  and  I  didn't  know  what  to  do  with  it. 
I  could  have  rolled  in  it  if  I  wanted  to,  and 
I  did  roll  in  it,  but  there  was  no  fun  in 
that. 

"This  was  the  trouble  with  me  —  I 
couldn't  count  it ;  it  had  gone  beyond  me  ; 
there  were  piles  of  it ;  there  were  stacks  of 
it ;  it  was  four  feet  deep  all  over  the  floor, 
and  I  could  no  more  move  it  than  I  could 
move  a  house. 

"  I  never  wanted  that  much  money,  for  no 
man  could  want  it :  I  only  wanted  what  I 
could  manage  with  my  hands ;  and  the  fear 
of  robbers  was  on  me  to  that  pitch  that  I 
could  neither  sit  nor  stand  nor  sleep. 


184  THE   DEMI-GODS 

"Every  time  I  opened  the  door  the  place 
was  fuller  than  it  was  the  last  time,  and,  at 
last,  I  got  to  hate  the  barn.  I  just  couldn't 
stand  the  look  of  the  place,  and  the  light 
squinting  at  me  from  thousands  and  thou 
sands  of  gold  corners. 

"It  beat  me  at  last.  One  day  I  marched 
into  the  house,  and  I  picked  up  the  concer 
tina  that  my  son  bought  (I  was  able  to  play 
it  well  myself)  and  said  I  to  the  wife  : 

"'I'm  off/ 

'"  Where  are  you  off?' 

"'I'm  going  into  the  world.' 

"'What  will  become  of  the  farm?' 

can  have  it  yourself,'  said  I,  and 


with  that  I  stepped  clean  out  of  the  house 
and  away  to  the  road.  I  didn't  stop  walk 
ing  for  two  days,  and  I  never  went  back 
from  that  day  to  this. 

"I  do  play  on  the  concertina  before  the 
houses,  and  the  people  give  me  coppers.  I 
travel  from  place  to  place  every  day,  and 
I'm  as  happy  as  a  bird  on  a  bough,  for  I've 
no  worries  and  I  worry  no  one." 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  185 

"What  did  become  of  the  money  ?"  said 
Patsy. 

"I'm  thinking  now  that  it  might  have 
been  fairy  gold,  and,  if  it  was,  nobody  could 
touch  it." 

"So,"  said  Mac  Cann,  "that's  the  sort  of 
boys  they  were?" 

"That's  the  sort." 

1 '  And  one  of  them  was  your  own  Guardian 
Angel!" 

"He  said  that." 

"And  what  was  the  other  one  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,  but  I  do  think  that  he  was 
a  spook." 

Patsy  turned  to  Finaun  : 

"Tell  me,  mister,  is  that  a  true  story  now, 
or  was  the  lad  making  it  up  ?  " 

"  It  is  true,"  replied  Finaun. 

Patsy  considered  for  a  moment. 

"I  wonder,"  said  he  musingly,  "who  is 
my  own  Guardian  Angel  ?" 

Caeltia  hastily  put  the  pipe  into  his 
pocket. 

"I  am,"  said  he. 


1 86  THE  DEMI-GODS 

"Oh,  bedad!" 

Mac  Cann  placed  his  hands  on  his  knees 
and  laughed  heartily. 

"You  are  !  and  I  making  you  drunk  every 
second  night  in  the  little  pubs  !" 

"You  never  made  me  drunk." 

"I  did  not,  for  you've  got  a  hard 
head  surely,  but  there's  a  pair  of  us  in  it, 
mister." 

He  was  silent  again,  then : 

"I  wonder  who  is  the  Guardian  Angel  of 
Eileen  Ni  Cooley  ?  for  he  has  his  work  cut 
out  for  him,  I'm  thinking." 

"I  am  her  Guardian  Angel,"  said  Finaun. 

"Are  you  telling  me  that  ? " 

Mac  Cann  stared  at  Finaun,  and  he 
lapsed  again  to  reverie. 

"Ah,  well !"  said  he  to  Billy  the  Music, 
"it  was  a  fine  story  you  told  us,  mister,  and 
queer  deeds  you  were  mixed  up  in  ;  but  I'd 
like  to  meet  the  men  that  took  our  clothes, 
I  would  so." 

"I  can  tell  you  something  more  about 
them,"  Caeltia  remarked. 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  187 

"So  you  said  a  while  back.  What  is  it 
you  can  tell  us?" 

"I  can  tell  you  the  beginning  of  all  that 
tale." 

"  I'd  like  to  hear  it,"  said  Billy  the  Music. 

"There  is  just  a  piece  I  will  have  to 
make  up  from  what  I  heard  since  we  came 
here,  but  the  rest  I  can  answer  for  because 
I  was  there  at  the  time." 

"I  remember  it  too,"  said  Art  to  Caeltia, 
"and  when  you  have  told  your  story  I'll 
tell  another  one." 

"Serve  out  the  potatoes,  Mary,"  said 
Mac  Cann,  "and  then  you  can  go  on  with 
the  story.  Do  you  think  is  that  ass  all 
right,  alannah?" 

"  He's  eating  the  grass  still,  but  I  think 
he  may  be  wanting  a  drink." 

"He  had  a  good  drink  yesterday,"  said 
her  father,  and  he  shifted  to  a  more  com 
fortable  position. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

SAID  Caeltia : 

"When  Brien  O'Brien  died  people  said 
that  it  did  not  matter  very  much  because 
he  would  have  died  young  in  any  case. 
He  would  have  been  hanged,  or  his  head 
would  have  been  split  in  two  halves  with  a 
hatchet,  or  he  would  have  tumbled  down 
the  cliff  when  he  was  drunk  and  been 
smashed  into  jelly.  Something  like  that 
was  due  to  him,  and  everybody  likes  to  see 
a  man  get  what  he  deserves  to  get. 

"But,  as  ethical  writs  cease  to  run  when 
a  man  is  dead,  the  neighbours  did  not  stay 
away  from  his  wake.  They  came,  and  they 
said  many  mitigating  things  across  the  body 
with  the  bandaged  jaws  and  the  sly  grin, 
and  they  reminded  each  other  of  this  and 
that  queer  thing  which  he  had  done,  for 

188 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  189 

his  memory  was  crusted  over  with  stories 
of  wild,  laughable  things,  and  other  things 
which  were  wild  but  not  laughable. 

"Meanwhile  he  was  dead,  and  one  was  at 
liberty  to  be  a  trifle  sorry  for  him.  Further, 
he  belonged  to  the  O'Brien  nation  —  a  stock 
to  whom  reverence  was  due.  A  stock  not 
easily  forgotten.  The  historic  memory 
could  reconstruct  forgotten  glories  of  sta 
tion  and  battle,  of  terrible  villainy  and 
terrible  saintliness,  the  pitiful,  valorous, 
slow  descent  to  the  degradation  which  was 
not  yet  wholly  victorious.  A  great  stock  ! 
The  O'Neills  remembered  it.  The  O'Tools 
and  the  Mac  Sweeneys  had  stories  by  the 
hundred  of  love  and  hate.  The  Burkes  and 
the  Geraldines  and  the  new  strangers  had 
memories  also. 

"His  family  was  left  in  the  poorest  way, 
but  they  were  used  to  that,  for  he  had  kept 
them  as  poor  as  he  left  them,  or  found  them, 
for  that  matter.  They  had  shaken  hands 
with  Charity  so  often  that  they  no  longer 
disliked  the  sallow-faced  lady,  and  so  certain 


190  THE   DEMI-GODS 

small  gifts  made  by  the  neighbours  were 
accepted,  not  very  thankfully,  but  very 
readily.  These  gifts  were  almost  always  in 
kind.  A  few  eggs.  A  bag  of  potatoes.  A 
handful  of  meal.  A  couple  of  twists  of  tea 
—  such  like. 

1  'One  of  the  visitors,  however,  moved  by 
an  extraordinary  dejection,  slipped  a  silver 
threepenny-piece  into  the  hand  of  Brien's 
little  daughter,  Sheila,  aged  four  years, 
and  later  on  she  did  not  like  to  ask  for  it 
back  again. 

"Little  Sheila  had  been  well  trained  by 
her  father.  She  knew  exactly  what  should 
be  done  with  money,  and  so,  when  nobody 
was  looking,  she  tip-toed  to  the  coffin  and 
slipped  the  threepenny-piece  into  Brien's 
hand.  That  hand  had  never  refused  money 
when  it  was  alive,  it  did  not  reject  it  either 
when  it  was  dead. 

"They  buried  him  the  next  day. 

"He  was  called  up  for  judgment  the  day 
after,  and  made  his  appearance  with  a  mis 
cellaneous  crowd  of  wretches,  and  there  he 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  191 

again  received  what  was  due  to  him.  He 
was  removed,  protesting  and  struggling,  to 
the  place  decreed : 

"'Down,'  said  Rhadamanthus,  pointing 
with  his  great  hand,  and  down  he  went. 

"In  the  struggle  he  dropped  the  three 
penny-piece,  but  he  was  so  bustled  and 
heated  that  he  did  not  observe  his  loss.  He 
went  down,  far  down,  out  of  sight,  out  of 
remembrance,  to  a  howling  black  gulf  with 
others  of  his  unseen  kind. 

"A  young  seraph,  named  Cuchulain, 
chancing  to  pass  that  way  shortly  after 
wards,  saw  the  threepenny-piece  peeping 
brightly  from  the  rocks,  and  he  picked  it 
up. 

"He  looked  at  it  in  astonishment.  He 
turned  it  over  and  over,  this  way  and  that 
way.  Examined  it  at  the  stretch  of  his  arm, 
and  peered  minutely  at  it  from  two  inches 
distance. 

"'I  have  never  in  my  life  seen  anything 
so  beautifully  wrought/  said  he,  and,  hav 
ing  stowed  it  in  his  pouch  along  with  some 


1 92  THE   DEMI-GODS 

other  trinkets,  he  strolled  homewards  again 
through  the  massy  gates. 

"It  was  not  long  until  Brien  discovered 
his  loss,  and  suddenly,  through  the  black 
region,  his  voice  went  mounting  and  brawl 
ing. 

'"I  have  been  robbed/  he  yelled.  'I 
have  been  robbed  in  heaven  ! ' 

"Having  begun  to  yell  he  did  not 
stop.  Sometimes  he  was  simply  angry  and 
made  a  noise.  Sometimes  he  became  sar 
castic  and  would  send  his  query  swirling 
upwards. 

>*Who  stole  the  threepenny-bit?'  he 
roared.  He  addressed  the  surrounding 
black  space : 

"'Who  stole  the  last  threepenny-bit  of  a 
poor  man  ? ' 

"Again  and  again  his  voice  pealed  up 
wards.  The  pains  of  his  habitation  lost  all 
their  sting  for  him.  His  mind  had  nourish 
ment,  and  the  heat  within  him  vanquished 
the  fumes  without.  He  had  a  grievance, 
a  righteous  cause,  he  was  buoyed  and 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  193 

strengthened,  nothing  could  silence  him. 
They  tried  ingenious  devices,  all  kinds  of 
complicated  things,  but  he  paid  no  heed, 
and  the  tormentors  were  in  despair. 

"'I  hate  these  sinners  from  the  kingdom 
of  Kerry,'  said  the  Chief  Tormentor,  and  he 
sat  moodily  down  on  his  own  circular  saw ; 
and  that  worried  him  also,  for  he  was  clad 
only  in  a  loin-cloth. 

"""'I  hate  the  entire  Clann  of  the  Gael/ 
said  he  ;  '  why  cannot  they  send  them  some 
where  else  ? '  and  then  he  started  practising 
again  on  Brien. 

"  It  was  no  use.  Brien's  query  still  blared 
upwards  like  the  sound  of  the  great  trump 
itself.  It  wakened  and  rung  the  rocky 
caverns,  screamed  through  fissure  and  fun 
nel,  and  was  battered  and  slung  from  pin 
nacle  to  crag  and  up  again.  Worse  !  his 
companions  in  doom  became  interested  and 
took  up  the  cry,  until  at  last  the  uproar 
became  so  appalling  that  the  Master  himself 
could  not  stand  it. 

" '  I  have  not  had  a  wink  of  sleep  for  three 


194  THE   DEMI-GODS 

nights/  said  that  harassed  one,  and  he  sent 
a  special  embassy  to  the  powers. 

1 '  Rhadamanthus  was  astonished  when  they 
arrived.  His  elbow  was  leaning  on  his  vast 
knee,  and  his  heavy  head  rested  on  a  hand 
that  was  acres  long,  acres  wide. 

" '  What  is  all  this  about  ? '  said  he. 

"'The  Master  cannot  go  to  sleep/  said 
the  spokesman  of  the  embassy,  and  he 
grinned  as  he  said  it,  for  it  sounded  queer 
even  to  himself. 

41 1  It  is  not  necessary  that  he  should  sleep/ 
said  Rhadamanthus.  'I  have  never  slept 
since  time  began,  and  I  will  never  sleep  until 
time  is  over.  But  the  complaint  is  curious. 
Whjtf  has  troubled  your  master  ? ' 
-x*^'HeH  is  turned  upside  down  and  inside 
out/  said  the  fiend.  'The  tormentors  are 
weeping  like  little  children.  The  princi 
palities  are  squatting  on  their  hunkers 
doing  nothing.  The  orders  are  running 
here  and  there  fighting  each  other.  The 
styles  are  leaning  against  walls  shrugging 
their  shoulders,  and  the  damned  are  shout- 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  195 

ing  and  laughing  and  have  become  callous 
to  torment/ 

"'It  is  not  my  business/  said  the  judge. 

"'The  sinners  demand  justice/  said  the 
spokesman. 

"'They've  got  it,'  said  Rhadamanthus, 
'let  them  stew  in  it.' 

" '  They  refuse  to  stew,1  replied  the  spokes 
man,  wringing  his  hands. 

"Rhadamanthus  sat  up. 

"'It  is  an  axiom  in  law,'  said  he,  'that 
however  complicated  an  event  may  be,  there 
can  never  be  more  than  one  person  at  the 
extreme  bottom  of  it.  Who  is  the  person  ? ' 

'"It  is  one  Brien  of  the  O'Brien  nation, 
late  of  the  kingdom  of  Kerry.  A  bad  one  ! 
He  got  the  maximum  punishment  a  week 
ago.' 

"For  the  first  time  in  his  life  Rhadaman 
thus  was  disturbed.  He  scratched  his  head, 
and  it  was  the  first  time  he  had  ever  done 
that  either. 

'"You  say  he  got  the  maximum,'  said 
Rhadamanthus,  'then  it's  a  fix  !  I  have 


196  THE   DEMI-GODS 

damned  him  for  ever,  and  better  or  worse 
than  that  cannot  be  done.  It  is  none  of  my 
business,'  said  he  angrily,  and  he  had  the 
deputation  removed  by  force. 

"But  that  did  not  ease  the  trouble.  The 
contagion  spread  until  ten  million  billions  of 
voices  were  chanting  in  unison,  and  un 
countable  multitudes  were  listening  between 
their  pangs. 

"'Who  stole  the  threepenny-bit?  Who 
stole  the  threepenny-bit  ? ' 

"That  was  still  their  cry.  Heaven  rang 
with  it  as  well  as  hell.  Space  was  filled  with 
that  rhythmic  tumult.  Chaos  and  empty 
Nox  had  a  new  discord  added  to  their 
elemental  throes.  Another  memorial  was 
drafted  below,  showing  that  unless  the 
missing  coin  was  restored  to  its  owner  hell 
would  have  to  close  its  doors.  There  was  a 
veiled  menace  in  the  memorial  also,  for 
Clause  6  hinted  that  if  hell  was  allowed  to 
go  by  the  board  heaven  might  find  itself 
in  some  jeopardy  thereafter. 

"The  document  was  despatched  and  con- 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  197 

sidered.  In  consequence  a  proclamation 
was  sent  through  all  the  wards  of  Paradise, 
calling  on  whatever  person,  archangel, 
seraph,  cherub,  or  acolyte,  had  found  a 
threepenny-piece  since  mid-day  of  the  tenth 
August  then  instant,  that  the  same  person, 
archangel,  seraph,  cherub,  or  acolyte,  should 
deliver  the  said  threepenny-piece  to  Rhada- 
manthus  at  his  Court,  and  should  receive  in 
return  a  free  pardon  and  a  receipt. 
"The  coin  was  not  delivered. 

"The  young  seraph,  Cuchulain,  walked 
about  like  a  person  who  was  strange  to 
himself.  He  was  not  tormented :  he  was 
angry.  He  frowned,  he  cogitated  and  fumed. 
He  drew  one  golden  curl  through  his  fingers 
until  it  was  lank  and  drooping ;  save  the  end 
only,  that  was  still  a  ripple  of  gold.  He  put 
the  end  in  his  mouth  and  strode  moodily 
chewing  it.  And  every  day  his  feet  turned 
in  the  same  direction  —  down  the  long  en 
trance  boulevard,  through  the  mighty  gates, 
along  the  strip  of  carved  slabs,  to  that  piled 


198  THE   DEMI-GODS 

wilderness  where  Rhadamanthus  sat  monu 
mentally. 

"Here  delicately  he  went,  sometimes  with 
a  hand  outstretched  to  help  his  foothold, 
standing  for  a  space  to  think  ere  he  jumped 
to  a  farther  rock,  balancing  himself  for  a 
moment  ere  he  leaped  again.  So  he  would 
come  to  stand  and  stare  gloomily  upon  the 
judge. 

"He  would  salute  gravely,  as  was  meet, 
and  say,  '  God  bless  the  work  ' ;  but 
Rhadamanthus  never  replied,  save  by  a 
nod,  for  he  was  very  busy. 

"Yet  the  judge  did  observe  him,  and 
would  sometimes  heave  ponderous  lids  to 
where  he  stood,  and  so,  for  a  few  seconds, 
they  regarded  each  other  in  an  interval  of 
that  unceasing  business. 

"Sometimes  for  a  minute  or  two  the 
young  seraph  Cuchulain  would  look  from 
the  judge  to  the  judged  as  they  crouched 
back  or  strained  forward,  the  good  and  the 
bad  all  in  the  same  tremble  of  fear,  all  un 
knowing  which  way  their  doom  might  lead. 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  199 

They  did  not  look  at  each  other.  They 
looked  at  the  judge  high  on  his  ebon  throne, 
and  they  could  not  look  away  from  him. 
There  were  those  who  knew,  guessed  clearly 
their  doom ;  abashed  and  flaccid  they  sat, 
quaking.  There  were  some  who  were 
uncertain  —  rabbit-eyed  these,  not  less 
quaking  than  the  others,  biting  at  their 
knuckles  as  they  peeped  upwards.  There 
were  those  hopeful,  yet  searching  fearfully 
backwards  in  the  wilderness  of  memory, 
chasing  and  weighing  their  sins  ;  and  these 
last,  even  when  their  bliss  was  sealed  and 
their  steps  set  on  an  easy  path,  went  falter 
ing,  not  daring  to  look  around  again,  their 
ears  strained  to  catch  a  — '  Halt,  mis 
creant  !  this  other  is  your  way  ! ' 

"So,  day  by  day,  he  went  to  stand  near 
the  judge ;  and  one  day  Rhadamanthus, 
looking  on  him  more  intently,  lifted  his 
great  hand  and  pointed : 

"Go  you  among  those  to  be  judged/ 
said  he. 

"For  Rhadamanthus  knew.     It  was  his 


200  THE   DEMI-GODS 

business  to  look  deep  into  the  heart  and  the 
mind,  to  fish  for  secrets  in  the  pools  of  being. 

''And  the  young  seraph  Cuchulain,  still 
rolling  his  golden  curl  between  his  lips,  went 
obediently  forward  and  set  down  his  nod 
ding  plumes  between  two  who  whimpered 
and  stared  and  quaked. 

"When  his  turn  came,  Rhadamanthus 
eyed  him  intently  for  a  long  time : 

"'Well !'  said  Rhadamanthus. 

"The  young  seraph  Cuchulain  blew  the 
curl  of  gold  from  his  lips  : 

"'Findings  are  keepings,'  said  he  loudly, 
and  he  closed  his  mouth  and  stared  very 
impertinently  at  the  judge. 

"'It  is  to  be  given  up,'  said  the  judge. 

"'Let  them  come  and  take  it  from  me,' 
said  the  seraph  Cuchulain.  And  suddenly 
(for  these  things  are  at  the  will  of  spirits) 
around  his  head  the  lightnings  span,  and  his 
hands  were  on  the  necks  of  thunders. 

"For  the  second  time  in  his  life  Rhada 
manthus  was  disturbed,  again  he  scratched 
his  head : 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  201 

"'It's  a  fix,'  said  he  moodily.  But  in  a 
moment  he  called  to  those  whose  duty  it  was  : 

"  'Take  him  to  this  side,'  he  roared. 

"And  they  advanced.  But  the  seraph 
Cuchulain  swung  to  meet  them,  and  his 
golden  hair  blazed  and  shrieked ;  and  the 
thunders  rolled  at  his  feet,  and  about  him  a 
bright  network  that  hissed  and  stung  —  and 
those  who  advanced  turned  haltingly  back 
wards  and  ran  screaming. 

" '  It's  a  fix,'  said  Rhadamanthus  ;  and  for 
a  little  time  he  stared  menacingly  at  the 
seraph  Cuchulain. 

"But  only  for  a  little  time.  Suddenly  he 
put  his  hands  on  the  rests  of  his  throne  and 
heaved  upwards  his  terrific  bulk.  Never 
before  had  Rhadamanthus  stood  from  his 
ordained  chair.  He  strode  mightily  forward 
and  in  an  instant  had  quelled  that  rebel. 
The  thunders  and  lightnings  were  but  moon 
beams  and  dew  on  that  stony  carcass.  He 
seized  the  seraph  Cuchulain,  lifted  him  to  his 
breast  as  one  lifts  a  sparrow,  and  tramped 
back  with  him : 


202  THE   DEMI-GODS 

"'  Fetch  me  that  other/  said  he  sternly, 
and  he  sat  down. 

"Those  whose  duty  it  was  sped  swiftly 
downwards  to  find  Brien  of  the  O'Brien 
nation ;  and  while  they  were  gone,  all  in 
vain  the  seraph  Cuchulain  crushed  flamy 
barbs  against  that  bosom  of  doom.  Now, 
indeed,  his  golden  locks  were  drooping  and 
his  plumes  were  broken  and  tossed  ;  but  his 
fierce  eye  still  glared  courageously  against 
the  nipple  of  Rhadamanthus. 

"Soon  they  brought  Brien.  He  was  a 
sight  of  woe  —  howling,  naked  as  a  tree 
in  winter,  black  as  a  tarred  wall,  carved 
and  gashed,  tattered  in  all  but  his  throat, 
wherewith,  until  one's  ears  rebelled,  he 
bawled  his  one  demand. 

"But  the  sudden  light  struck  him  to  a 
wondering  silence,  and  the  sight  of  the  judge 
holding  the  seraph  Cuchulain  like  a  limp 
flower  to  his  breast  held  him  gaping. 

"Bring  him  here,"  said  Rhadamanthus. 

"And  they  brought  him  to  the  steps  of 
the  throne. 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  203 

"'You  have  lost  a  medal !'  said  Rhada- 
manthus.  'This  one  has  it/ 

"Brien  looked  straitly  at  the  seraph 
Cuchulain. 

"  Rhadamanthus  stood  again,  whirled  his 
arm  in  an  enormous  arc,  jerked,  and  let  go, 
and  the  seraph  Cuchulain  went  swirling 
through  space  like  a  slung  stone. 

'"Go  after  him,  Kerryman,'  said  Rhada 
manthus,  stooping  ;  and  he  seized  Brien  by 
the  leg,  whirled  him  wide  and  out  and  far ; 
dizzy,  dizzy  as  a  swooping  comet,  and  down, 
and  down,  and  down. 

1 '  Rhadamanthus  seated  himself.  He  mo 
tioned  with  his  hand. 

'"Next/  said  he  coldly. 

Down  went  the  seraph  Cuchulain,  swirl 
ing  in  wide  tumbles,  scarcely  visible  for 
quickness.  Sometimes,  with  outstretched 
hands,  he  was  a  cross  that  dropped  plumb. 
Anon,  head  urgently  downwards,  he  dived 
steeply.  Again,  like  a  living  hoop,  head 
and  heels  together,  he  spun  giddily.  Blind, 
deaf,  dumb,  breathless,  mindless ;  and 


204  THE   DEMI-GODS 

behind  him  Brien  of  the  O'Brien  nation 
came  pelting  and  whizzing. 

"What  of  that  journey  ?  Who  could  give 
it  words  ?  Of  the  suns  that  appeared  and 
disappeared  like  winkling  eyes.  Comets 
that  shone  for  an  instant,  went  black  and 
vanished.  Moons  that  came,  and  stood, 
and  were  gone.  And  around  all,  including 
all,  boundless  space,  boundless  silence ; 
the  black  unmoving  void  —  the  deep,  un 
ending  quietude,  through  which  they  fell 
with  Saturn  and  Orion,  and  mildly-smiling 
Venus,  and  the  fair,  stark-naked  moon,  and 
the  decent  earth  wreathed  in  pearl  and  blue. 
From  afar  she  appeared,  the  quiet  one,  all 
lonely  in  the  void.  As  sudden  as  a  fair 
face  in  a  crowded  street.  Beautiful  as  the 
sound  of  falling  waters.  Beautiful  as  the 
sound  of  music  in  a  silence.  Like  a  white 
sail  on  a  windy  sea.  Like  a  green  tree  in  a 
solitary  place.  Chaste  and  wonderful  she 
appeared.  Flying  afar.  Flying  aloft  like  a 
joyous  bird  when  the  morning  breaks  on  the 
darkness  and  he  shrills  sweet  tidings.  She 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  205 

soared  and  sang.  Gently  she  sang  to  timid 
pipes  and  flutes  of  tender  straw  and  mur 
muring,  distant  strings.  A  song  that  grew 
and  swelled,  gathering  to  a  multitudinous, 
deep-thundered  harmony,  until  the  over 
burdened  ear  failed  before  the  appalling 
uproar  of  her  ecstasy,  and  denounced  her. 
No  longer  a  star  !  No  longer  a  bird  !  A 
plumed  and  horned  fury  !  Gigantic,  gigan 
tic,  leaping  and  shrieking  tempestuously, 
spouting  whirlwinds  of  lightning,  tearing 
gluttonously  along  her  path,  avid,  rampant, 
howling  with  rage  and  terror  she  leaped, 
dreadfully  she  leaped  and  flew.  .  .  . 

"Enough  !  They  hit  the  earth — they  were 
not  smashed,  there  was  that  virtue  in  them. 
They  hit  the  ground  just  outside  the  village 
of  Donnybrook  where  the  back  road  runs  to 
the  hills ;  and  scarcely  had  they  bumped 
twice  when  Brien  of  the  O'Brien  nation 
had  the  seraph  Cuchulain  by  the  throat. 

"'My  threepenny-bit/  he  roared,  with 
one  fist  up. 


206  THE   DEMI-GODS 

"But  the  seraph  Cuchulain  only  laughed  : 

"'That!'  said  he.  'Look  at  me,  man. 
Your  little  medal  dropped  far  beyond  the 
rings  of  Saturn/ 

"And  Brien  stood  back  looking  at  him— 
He  was  as  naked  as  Brien  was.     He  was  as 
naked  as  a  stone,  or  an  eel,  or  a  pot,  or  a 
new-born  babe.     He  was  very  naked. 

"So  Brien  of  the  O'Brien  nation  strode 
across  the  path  and  sat  down  by  the  side  of 
a  hedge : 

"'The  first  man  that  passes  this  way/ 
said  he,  'will  give  me  his  clothes,  or  I'll 
strangle  him/ 

"The  seraph  Cuchulain  walked  over  to 
him: 

"'I  will  take  the  clothes  of  the  second 
man  that  passes,'  said  he,  and  he  sat  down." 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

"AND then,"  said  Mac  Cann  thoughtfully, 
"we  came  along,  and  they  stole  our  clothes/' 

"That  wasn't  a  bad  tale,"  he  continued 
to  Caeltia.  ' '  You  are  as  good  a  story-teller, 
mister,  as  the  man  himself,"  pointing  to 
Billy  the  Music. 

Billy  replied  modestly : 

"It's  because  the  stories  were  good  ones 
that  they  were  well  told,  for  that's  not  my 
trade,  and  what  wonder  would  it  be  if  I 
made  a  botch  of  it  ?  I'm  a  musician  myself, 
as  I  told  you,  and  there's  my  instrument, 
but  I  knew  an  old  man  in  Connaught  one 
time,  and  he  was  a  great  lad  for  the  stories. 
He  used  to  make  his  money  at  it,  and  if 
that  man  was  to  break  off  in  the  middle  of 
a  tale  the  people  would  stand  up  and  kill 
him,  they  would  so.  He  was  a  gifted  man, 
for  he  would  tell  you  a  story  about  nothing 

207 


208  THE   DEMI-GODS 

at  all,  and  you'd  listen  to  him  with  your 
mouth  open  and  you  afraid  that  he  would 
come  to  the  end  of  it  soon,  and  maybe  it 
would  be  nothing  more  than  the  tale  of  how 
a  white  hen  laid  a  brown  egg.  He  would 
tell  you  a  thing  you  knew  all  your  life,  and 
you  would  think  it  was  a  new  thing.  There 
was  no  old  age  in  that  man'smind,  and  that's 
the  secret  of  story-telling/' 

Said  Mary : 

"I  could  listen  to  a  story  for  a  day  and 
a  night." 

Her  father  nodded  acquiescence  : 

1  'So  could  I,  if  it  was  a  good  story  and 
well  told,  and  I  would  be  ready  to  listen  to 
another  one  after  that." 

He  turned  to  Art : 

"You  were  saying  yourself,  sonny,  that 
there  was  a  story  in  your  head,  and  if  that's 
so,  now  is  your  chance  to  tell  it ;  but  I'm 
doubting  you'll  be  able  to  do  it  as  well  as  the 
two  men  here,  for  you  are  a  youngster,  and 
story-telling  is  an  old  man's  trade." 

"  I'll  do  my  best,"  said  Art,  "  but  I  never 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  209 

told  a  story  in  my  life,  and  it  may  not  be  a 
good  one  at  the  first  attempt." 

"  That's  all  right,"  replied  Mac  Cann 
encouragingly.  "We  won't  be  hard  on 
you." 

"Sure  enough,"  said  Billy  the  Music, 
"and  you've  listened  to  the  lot  of  us,  so  you 
will  know  the  road." 

"What  are  you  going  to  talk  about?" 
said  Caeltia. 

"I'm  going  to  talk  about  Brien  O'Brien, 
the  same  as  the  rest  of  you." 

"  Did  you  know  him  too  ?  "  cried  Billy. 

"I  did." 

"There  isn't  a  person  doesn't  know  that 
man,"  growled  Patsy.  "Maybe,"  and  he 
grinned  ferociously  as  he  said  it,  "maybe 
we'll  meet  him  on  the  road  and  he  tramping, 
and  perhaps  he  will  tell  us  a  story  himself." 

"That  man  could  not  tell  a  story,"  Finaun 
interrupted,  "for  he  has  no  memory,  and 
that  is  a  thing  a  good  story-teller  ought  to 
have." 

"  If  we  meet  him,"  said  Mac  Cann  grimly, 


210  THE   DEMI-GODS 

"I'll  do  something  to  him  and  he'll  remem 
ber  it,  and  it's  likely  that  he  will  be  able  to 
make  a  story  out  of  it  too." 

"I  only  saw  him  once,"  said  Art,  "but 
when  Rhadamanthus  tossed  him  through 
the  void  I  recognised  his  face,  although  so 
long  a  time  had  elapsed  since  I  did  see  him. 
He  is  now  less  than  he  was,  but  he  is,  never 
theless,  much  more  than  I  had  expected 
he  would  be." 

"What  is  he  now  ? "  said  Billy  the  Music. 

"He  is  a  man." 

"We  are  all  that,"  said  Patsy,  "and  it 
isn't  any  trouble  to  us." 

"It  was  more  trouble  than  you  imagine," 
said  Finaun. 

"I  had  expected  him  to  be  no  more  than 
one  of  the  higher  animals,  or  even  that  he 
might  have  been  dissipated  completely 
from  existence." 

"What  was  he  at  the  time  you  met 
him?" 

"He  was  a  magician,  and  he  was  one  of 
the  most  powerful  magicians  that  ever  lived. 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  211 

He  was  a  being  of  the  fifth  round,  and  he 
had  discovered  many  secrets." 

"I  have  known  magicians,"  commented 
Finaun,  "and  I  always  found  that  they  were 
fools." 

"Brien  O'Brien  destroyed  himself,"  Art 
continued,  "he  forfeited  his  evolution  and 
added  treble  to  his  karmic  burden  because 
he  had  not  got  a  sense  of  humour." 

"No  magician  has  a  sense  of  humour," 
remarked  Finaun,  "he  could  not  be  a  magi 
cian  if  he  had  —  Humour  is  the  health  of 
the  mind." 

"That,"  Art  broke  in,  "is  one  of  the 
things  he  said  to  me.  So  you  see  he  had 
discovered  something.  He  was  very  near 
to  being  a  wise  man.  He  was  certainly  a 
courageous  man,  or,  perhaps,  foolhardy  ; 
but  he  was  as  serious  as  a  fog,  and  he  could 
not  bring  himself  to  believe  it." 

"Tell  us  the  story,"  said  Caeltia. 

"-Here  it  is,"  said  Art. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

"ON  a  day  long  ago  I  laboured  with  the 
Army  of  the  Voice.  The  first  syllable  of  the 
great  word  had  been  uttered,  and  in  far 
eastern  space,  beyond  seven  of  the  flaming 
wheels,  I  and  the  six  sons  drew  the  lives 
together  and  held  them  for  the  whirlwind 
which  is  the  one.  We  were  waiting  for  the 
second  syllable  to  form  the  wind. 

"As  I  stood  by  my  place  holding  the  north 
in  quietness,  I  felt  a  strong  vibration  be 
tween  my  hands.  Something  was  inter 
fering  with  me.  I  could  not  let  go,  but  I 
looked  behind  me,  and  there  I  saw  a  man 
standing,  and  he  was  weaving  spells. 

"It  was  a  short,  dark  man  with  a  little 
bristle  of  black  whisker  on  his  chin  and  a 
stiff  bristle  of  black  hair  on  his  head.  He 
was  standing  inside  a  double  triangle  having 
the  points  upwards,  and  there  were  magical 

212 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  213 

signs  at  each  point  of  the  triangles.  While 
I  looked,  he  threw  around  him  from  side  to 
side  a  flaming  circle,  and  then  he  threw  a 
flaming  circle  about  him  from  front  to  back, 
and  he  span  these  so  quickly  that  he  was 
surrounded  by  a  wall  of  fire. 

"  At  him,  on  the  instant,  I  charged  a  bolt, 
but  it  could  not  penetrate  his  circles  ;  it  hit 
them  and  fell  harmless,  for  the  circles  had  a 
greater  speed  than  my  thunderbolt. 

"He  stood  so  in  the  triangles,  laughing  at 
me  and  scratching  his  chin. 

"I  dared  not  loose  my  hands  again  lest 
the  labour  of  a  cycle  should  be  dissipated  in 
an  instant,  and  it  was  no  use  shouting  to  the 
others,  for  they  also  were  holding  the  lives  in 
readiness  for  the  whirlwind  which  would 
shape  them  to  a  globe,  so  the  man  had  me 
at  his  mercy. 

"  He  was  working  against  my  grip,  and  he 
had  amazing  power.  He  had  somehow  dis 
covered  part  of  the  first  syllable  of  the  great 
word,  and  he  was  intoning  this  on  me  be 
tween  giggles,  but  he  could  not  destroy  us, 


214  THE   DEMI-GODS 

for  together  we  were  equal  to  the  number 
of  that  syllable. 

"When  I  looked  at  him  again  he  laughed 
at  me,  and  what  he  said  astonished  me 
greatly. 

'"This/  said  he,  'is  very  funny/ 

"I  made  no  reply  to  him,  being  intent 
only  on  holding  my  grip ;  but  I  was  reas 
sured,  for,  although  he  poured  on  me  inces 
santly  the  great  sound,  its  effect  was 
neutralised,  for  I  am  a  number,  and  in 
totality  we  were  the  numbers  ;  nevertheless 
the  substance  did  strain  and  heave  so  power 
fully  that  I  could  do  no  more  than  hold  it  in 
place. 

"The  man  spoke  to  me  again.  Said 
he: 

"'Do  you  not  think  that  this  is  very 
funny  ? ' 

"  I  made  no  answer  for  a  time,  and  then  I 
said: 

'"Who  are  you?* 

"'A  name,'  he  replied,  'is  a  power;  I 
won't  give  you  my  name  although  I  would 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  215 

like  to,  for  this  is  a  great  deed  and  a  funny 
one.' 

'"What  is  your  planet  ?'  quoth  I. 

'"I  won't  tell  you  that,'  he  replied;  'you 
might  read  my  signs  and  come  after  me  later 
on.' 

"I  could  not  but  admire  the  immense  im 
pertinence  of  his  deed. 

"'I  know  your  sign,'  said  I,  'for  you 
have  already  made  it  three  times  with  your 
hand,  and  there  is  only  one  planet  of  these 
systems  which  has  evolved  the  fifth  race,  so 
I  know  your  planet.  Your  symbol  is  the 
Mule,  and  Uriel  is  your  Regent ;  he  will  be 
coming  after  you  soon,  so  you  had  better  go 
away  while  you  have  time.' 

"'If  he  comes,'  said  the  man,  'I'll  put 
him  in  a  bottle,  and  I'll  put  you  in  a  bottle 
too.  I  won't  go  for  another  while,  the  joke 
is  too  good,  and  this  is  only  the  commence 
ment  of  it.' 

"'You  will  be  caught  by  the  second  syl 
lable,'  I  warned  him. 

'"I'll  put  it  in  a  bottle,'  said  he  grinning 


2i6  THE   DEMI-GODS 

at  me.  'No,'  he  continued,  'I  won't  be 
caught,  I've  made  my  calculations,  and  it's 
not  due  yet  a  while.' 

"Again  he  poured  on  me  the  great  sound 
until  I  rocked  to  and  fro  like  a  bush  in  the 
wind  ;  but  he  could  not  loose  my  grip,  for  I 
was  a  part  of  the  word. 

" '  Why  are  you  doing  this  ? '  I  asked  him. 

"Til  tell  you  that,'  he  replied. 

" '  I  am  two  things,  and  I  am  great  in  each 
of  these  two  things.  I  am  a  great  magician, 
and  I  am  a  great  humourist.  Now,  it  is 
very  easy  to  prove  that  one  is  a  magician, 
for  one  has  only  to  do  things  and  then 
people  are  astonished ;  they  are  filled  with 
fear  and  wonder ;  they  fall  down  and  wor 
ship  and  call  one  god  and  master.  But  it 
is  not  so  easy  to  be  a  humourist,  because  in 
that  case  it  is  necessary  to  make  people 
laugh.  If  a  man  is  to  be  a  magician  it  is 
necessary,  if  his  art  is  to  be  appreciated, 
that  the  people  around  him  be  fools.  If  a 
person  desires  to  be  a  humourist  it  is 
necessary  that  the  people  around  him  shall 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  217 

be  at  least  as  wise  as  he  is,  otherwise  his 
humour  will  not  be  comprehended.  You 
see  my  predicament !  and  it  is  a  cruel  one, 
for  I  cannot  forego  either  of  these  ambi 
tions  —  they  are  my  karma.  Laughter  is 
purely  an  intellectual  quality,  and  in  my 
planet  I  have  no  intellectual  equals :  my 
jokes  can  only  be  enjoyed  by  myself,  and  it 
is  of  the  essence  of  humour  that  one  share 
it,  or  it  turns  to  ill-health  and  cynicism  and 
mental  sourness.  My  humour  cannot  be 
shared  with  the  people  of  my  planet,  for  they 
are  all  half  a  round  beneath  me  —  they  can 
never  see  the  joke,  they  only  see  consequences, 
and  these  blind  them  to  the  rich  drollery  of 
any  affair,  and  render  me  discontented  and 
angry.  My  humour  is  too  great  for  them, 
for  it  is  not  terrestrial  but  cosmic ;  it  can 
only  be  appreciated  by  the  gods,  therefore,  I 
have  come  out  here  to  seek  my  peers  and  to 
have  at  least  one  hearty  laugh  with  them.7 
'"One  must  laugh/  he  continued,  'for 
laughter  is  the  health  of  the  mind,  and  I 
have  not  laughed  for  a  crore  of  seasons.' 


218  THE   DEMI-GODS 

"Thereupon  he  took  up  the  syllable  and 
intoned  its  flooding  sound  so  that  the  matter 
beneath  my  hands  strained  against  me  al 
most  unbearably. 

"I  turned  my  head  and  stared  at  the  little 
man  as  he  laughed  happily  to  himself  and 
scraped  his  chin. 

"'You  are  a  fool,'  said  I  to  that  man. 

"The  smile  vanished  from  his  face  and  a 
shade  of  dejection  took  its  place. 

"  'Is  it  possible,  Regent,  that  you  have  no 
sense  of  humour  ! '  said  he. 

"'This,'  I  replied,  'is  not  humorous;  it 
is  only  a  practical  joke  ;  it  is  no  more  than 
incipient  humour  ;  there  is  no  joke  in  it  but 
only  mischief,  for  to  interfere  with  work  is 
the  humour  of  a  babe  or  a  monkey.  You 
are  a  thoroughly  serious  person,  and  you  will 
not  make  a  joke  in  ten  eternities  ;  that  also 
is  in  your  karma.' 

"At  these  words  his  eyes  brooded  on  me 
darkly,  and  an  expression  of  real  malignancy 
came  on  his  face :  he  stamped  at  me  from 
the  triangles  and  hissed  with  rage. 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  219 

"'I'll  show  you  something  else/  said  he, 
'and  if  it  doesn't  make  you  laugh  it  will 
make  everybody  else  who  hears  about  it 
laugh  for  an  age.' 

11 1  saw  that  he  was  meditating  a  personal 
evil  to  me,  but  I  was  powerless,  for  I  could 
not  let  go  my  grip  on  the  substance. 

"He  lifted  his  hands  against  me  then,  but, 
at  the  moment,  there  came  a  sound,  so  low, 
so  deep,  it  could  scarcely  be  heard,  and  with 
equal  strong  intensity  the  sound  pervaded 
all  the  spaces  and  brooded  in  every  point 
and  atom  with  its  thrilling  breath  —  we 
were  about  to  shape  to  the  whirlwind. 

"The  man's  hands  fell,  and  he  stared  at 
me. 

"'Oh!'  said  he,  and  he  said  'Oh'  three 
times  in  a  whisper. 

"The  sound  was  the  beginning  of  the 
second  syllable. 

'  'I  thought  I  had  time,'  he  gasped :  'my 
calculations  were  wrong.' 

'"The  joke  is  against  you,'  said  I  to  the 
man. 


220  THE   DEMI-GODS 

" '  What  will  I  do  ? '  he  screamed. 

"'Laugh,'  I  replied,  'laugh  at  the  joke.' 

"Already  his  flying  circles  had  ceased  to 
revolve,  and  their  broad  flame  was  no  more 
than  a  blue  flicker  that  disappeared  even  as 
I  looked  at  them.  He  stood  only  in  the 
triangles,  and  he  was  open  to  my  vengeance. 
His  staring,  haggard  eyes  fell  on  the  bolt  in 
my  hand. 

" 'There  is  no  need  for  that/  said  he,  and 
he  did  speak  with  some  small  dignity,  '  I  am 
caught  by  the  sound,  and  there  is  an  end  to 


me.' 


"And  that  was  true,  so  I  did  not  loose  my 
bolt. 

"Already  his  triangles  were  crumbling. 
He  sank  on  his  haunches,  clasped  his 
hands  about  his  legs  and  bowed  his  head 
on  his  knees.  I  could  see  that  he  knew 
all  was  lost,  and  that  he  was  making  a  last 
desperate  effort  to  guard  his  entity  from 
dissolution,  and  he  succeeded,  for,  one 
instant  before  the  triangles  had  disap 
peared,  he  had  vanished,  but  he  could  not 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  221 

have  entirely  escaped  the  sound,  that  was 
impossible,  and  if  he  reached  his  planet  it 
must  have  been  as  a  life  of  the  third  round 
instead  of  the  fifth  to  which  he  had  attained. 
He  had  the  entire  of  his  evolution  to  per 
form  over  again  and  had,  moreover,  added 
weightily  to  his  karmic  disabilities. 

"I  saw  him  no  more,  nor  did  I  hear 
of  him  again  until  the  day  when  Brien 
O'Brien  was  thrown  from  the  gates,  and 
then  I  knew  that  he  and  O'Brien  were  the 
same  being,  and  that  he  had  really  escaped 
and  was  a  fourth  round  life  of  the  lowest 
globe. 

"Perhaps  he  will  be  heard  of  again,  for 
he  is  an  energetic  and  restless  being  to  whom 
an  environment  is  an  enemy  and  to  whom 
humour  is  an  ambition  and  a  mystery. " 

"That  is  the  end  of  my  story,"  said  Art 
modestly. 

Mac  Cann  regarded  him  indulgently  from 
a  cloud  of  smoke  : 

"It  wasn't  as  good  as  the  other  ones,"  he 


222  THE   DEMI-GODS 

remarked,  "but  that's  not  your  fault,  and 
you're  young  into  the  bargain." 

"He  is  not  as  young  as  he  looks,"  re 
marked  Finaun. 

"A  good  story  has  to  be  about  ordinary 
things,"  continued  Patsy,  "but  there  isn't 
anybody  could  tell  what  your  story  was 
about." 

Billy  the  Music  here  broke  in  : 

"The  person  I  would  have  liked  to  hear 
more  of  is  Cuchulain,  for  he  is  my  own 
guardian  angel  and  it's  him  I'm  interested 
in.  The  next  time  I  meet  him  I'll  ask  him 
questions." 

He  glanced  around  the  circle : 

"Is  there  anybody  would  like  to  hear  a 
tune  on  the  concertina?  I  have  it  by 
my  hand  here,  and  the  evening  is  before 


us." 


"You  can  play  it  for  us  the  next  time  we 
meet,"  said  Patsy,  "for  we  are  all  tired 
listening  to  the  stories,  and  you  are  tired 
yourself." 

He  lifted  to  his  feet  then  and  yawned 


BRIEN   O'BRIEN  223 

heartily  with  his  arms  at  full  stretch  and  his 
fists  clenched : 

"We  had  better  be  moving,"  he  con 
tinued,  "for  the  evening  is  coming  on  and 
it's  twenty  miles  to  the  fair." 

They  harnessed  the  ass. 

"I'm  going  the  opposite  way  to  you," 
said  Billy  the  Music. 

"All  right,"  said  Patsy.  "God  be  with 
you,  mister." 

"God  be  with  yourselves,"  replied  Billy 
the  Music. 

He  tramped  off  then  in  his  own  direction, 
while  Mac  Cann  and  his  companions  took 
their  road  with  the  ass. 


BOOK   IV 

MARY  MAC  CANN 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

THE  search  for  work  and  food  led  them 
back,  but  by  different  paths,  through  Kerry, 
up  into  Connemara,  and  thence  by  stony 
regions  to  Donegal  again  and  the  rugged 
hills. 

Their  days  were  uneventful  but  they  were 
peaceful :  their  nights  were  pleasant,  and 
seldom  did  they  lack  for  even  one  meal  in 
the  day.  When  they  did  so  lack  they  passed 
the  unwelcome  hour  in  the  silence  of  those 
to  whom  such  an  hiatus  was  not  singular. 
Under  Mac  Cann's  captaincy  the  tiny  band 
moved  from  meal  to  meal  as  another  army 
would  invest  and  sack  and  depart  from  the 
cities  on  its  route. 

Sometimes  at  night  a  ballad-singer  would 
stray  on  their  road,  an  angry  man  from 
whom  no  person  had  purchased  songs  for 
two  days,  and  in  return  for  victual  this  one 

227 


228  THE   DEMI-GODS 

would  entertain  them  with  his  lays  and 
recite  the  curses  he  had  composed  against 
those  who  did  not  pay  the  musician. 

Sometimes  they  came  on  gatherings  of 
tinkers  and  pedlars,  tramps,  and  trick-men, 
and  in  the  midst  of  these  they  would  journey 
towards  a  fair.  Uproarious  nights  then  ! 
Wild  throats  yelling  at  the  stars  and  much 
loud  trampling  on  the  roads  as  the  women 
fought  and  screeched,  and  the  men  howled 
criticism  and  encouragement,  and  came  by 
mere  criticism  themselves  to  the  battle. 
Paltry  onslaughts  these,  more  of  word  than 
of  weapon  to  the  fray  that  left  some  blooded 
noses  and  swollen  lips  as  the  one  hour 
memorial  of  their  deeds. 

And  again  the  peaceful  nights,  the  calm 
stars,  the  quiet  moon  strewing  her  path  in 
silver ;  space  for  the  eye,  the  ear,  and  the 
soul ;  the  whispering  of  lovely  trees ;  the 
unending  rustle  of  the  grass,  and  the  wind 
that  came  and  went  away  and  came,  chant 
ing  its  long  rhythms  or  hushing  its  chill 
lullaby  by  the  fields  and  the  hills. 


MARY   MAC   CANN  229 

On  a  day  when  they  had  finished  eating 
Finaun  beckoned  Caeltia  and  Art  aside 
and  they  spoke  closely  together.  Turning 
to  Mac  Cann  and  his  daughter  Finaun 
said: 

"We  have  finished  what  we  came  to  do, 
my  friends." 

Patsy  nodded  frowningly  at  him. 

"What  was  it  you  came  to  do  ?" 

"  I  came  to  give  help  to  the  powers,"  said 
Finaun  mildly. 

"I  didn't  see  you  doing  much,M  replied 
Patsy. 

"And,"  Finaun  continued  smilingly,  "the 
time  has  come  for  us  to  go  away." 

"You're  in  a  hurry,  I  suppose  ?" 

"We  are  not  in  a  great  hurry,  but  the 
time  has  come  for  us  to  go  back."  ' 

"Very  well!"  said  Patsy.  "We  aren't 
so  far  from  where  we  started.  If  we  take 
one  of  the  turns  on  the  right  here  and  bear 
away  to  the  west  by  Cnuc-Mahon  and 
Tober-Fola  and  Rath-Cormac  we'll  come 
to  the  place  where  your  things  are  buried, 


230  THE   DEMI-GODS 

and  then  I  suppose  —  we  can  get  there  in 
three  days,  if  that  will  do  you  ?" 

"That  will  do,"  said  Finaun. 

During  the  remainder  of  the  day  he 
and  his  companions  walked  together  talking 
among  themselves  while  Mac  Cann  and  his 
daughter  went  with  the  ass. 

Patsy  also  was  preoccupied  all  that  day 
and  she  had  her  own  thoughts ;  they 
scarcely  spoke  at  all  and  the  ass  was  bored. 

At  night  they  camped  under  a  broken 
arch,  the  vestige  of  they  knew  not  what 
crumbled  building,  and,  seated  around  the 
brazier,  they  sunk  to  silence,  each  staring  at 
the  red  glow  and  thinking  according  to  their 
need,  and  it  was  then  that  Art,  lifting  his 
eyes  from  the  brazier,  looked  for  the  first 
time  at  Mary  and  saw  that  she  was  beautiful. 

She  had  been  looking  at  him  —  that  was 
now  her  one  occupation.  She  existed  only 
in  these  surreptitious  examinations.  She 
dwelt  on  him  broodingly  as  a  miser  burns  on 
his  gold  or  a  mother  hovers  hungrily  upon 
her  infant,  but  he  had  never  given  her  any 


MARY   MAC   CANN  231 

heed.  Now  he  was  looking  at  her,  and  across 
the  brazier  their  eyes  communed  deeply. 

There  was  birth  already  between  them  — 
sex  was  born,  and  something  else  was  shap 
ing  feebly  to  existence.  Love,  that  protec 
tion  and  cherishing,  that  total  of  life,  the  shy 
prince  scarcely  to  be  known  among  the 
teeming  populations  of  the  world,  raised 
languidly  from  enchanted  sleep  a  feeble 
hand. 

What  fire  did  their  eyes  utter  !  The  quiet 
night  became  soundingly  vocal.  Winged 
words  were  around  her  again  as  in  that  twi 
light  when  her  heart  loosed  its  first  trials  of 
song.  Though  the  night  was  about  her 
black  and  calm  there  was  dawn  and  sun 
light  in  her  heart,  and  she  bathed  herself 
deeply  in  the  flame. 

And  he  !  There  is  no  knowing  but  this, 
that  his  eyes  poured  soft  fire,  enveloping, 
exhaustless.  He  surrounded  her  as  with  a 
sea.  There  she  slid  and  fell  and  disap 
peared,  to  find  herself  again,  renewed,  reborn, 
thrilling  to  the  embrace  of  those  waters, 


232  THE   DEMI-GODS 

wondrously  alive  and  yet  so  languid  that 
she  could  not  move.  There  she  rocked  like 
a  boat  on  the  broad  waves  and,  saving  the 
limitless  sea,  there  was  nothing  in  sight. 
Almost  he  even  had  disappeared  from  her 
view  but  not  from  her  sensation:  he  was 
an  influence  wide  as  the  world,  deep  and 
steep  and  tremendous  as  all  space. 

They  were  alone.  The  quiet  men  seated 
beside  them  thinned  and  faded  and  dis 
appeared  :  the  night  whisked  from  knowl 
edge  as  a  mounting  plume  of  smoke  that 
eddies  and  is  gone :  the  trees  and  the  hills 
tripped  softly  backwards  and  drooped  away. 
Now  they  were  in  a  world  of  their  own, 
microscopic,  but  intense  :  a  sphere  bounded 
by  less  than  the  stretching  of  their  arms  :  a 
circle  of  such  violent  movement  that  it  was 
stationary  as  a  spinning-top,  and  her  mind 
whirled  to  it,  and  was  still  from  very  activ 
ity.  She  could  not  think,  she  could  not 
try  to  think,  that  was  her  stillness,  but  she 
could  feel  and  that  was  her  movement ;  she 
was  no  longer  a  woman  but  a  responsive- 


MARY  MAC   CANN  233 

ness  :  she  was  an  universal  contact  thrilling 
at  every  pore  and  point :  she  was  sur 
rendered  and  lost  and  captured  and  no 
longer  pertained  to  herself. 

So  much  can  the  eye  do  when  the  gathered 
body  peers  meaningly  through  its  lens. 
They  existed  in  each  other :  in  and  through 
each  other :  the  three  feet  of  distance  was 
no  longer  there :  it  had  disappeared,  and 
they  were  one  being  swinging  on  league- 
long  wings  through  vast  spaces. 

When  they  dropped  to  sleep  it  was  merely 
a  slipping  backwards,  a  motion  that  they 
did  not  feel :  they  were  asleep  before  they 
dropped  asleep :  they  were  asleep  long 
before  that,  drugged  and  senseless  with  the 
strong  potion  of  the  body,  stronger  than 
aught  in  the  world  but  the  sharp  essence  of 
the  mind  that  awakens  all  things  and  never 
permits  them  to  be  lulled  again. 

When  morning  dawned  and  the  camp 
awakened  there  was  some  little  confusion, 
for  Mac  Cann  was  not  in  the  place  where  he 


234  THE   DEMI-GODS 

had  slept  and  they  could  not  imagine  where 
he  had  gone  to. 

Mary  discussed  his  disappearance  in  all 
kinds  of  terms,  Caeltia  alone,  with  a  down 
cast  air,  refusing  to  speak  of  it.  They 
waited  during  hours  for  him,  but  he  did  not 
return,  and  at  noon  they  decided  to  wait  no 
longer  but  to  go  on  their  journey  leaving 
him  to  catch  on  them  if  he  was  behind  or 
hoping  to  gain  on  him  if  he  was  in  advance, 
for  their  route  was  marked. 

The  angels  did  seem  a  trifle  lost  in  his 
absence,  and  they  looked  with  some  dubiety 
at  Mary  when  she  took  charge  of  their 
journey  and  of  the  daily  provision  of  their 
food. 

Food  had  to  be  gotten,  and  she  had  to 
discover  it  not  alone  for  herself  but  for  these 
other  mouths.  It  was  the  first  time  she  had 
been  alone  and,  although  her  brows  and 
lips  were  steady,  her  heart  beat  terror 
through  her  body. 

For  she  had  to  do  two  things  which  she 
had  never  done  and  had  never  surmised 


MARY   MAC   CANN  235 

really  had  to  be  done.  She  had  to  think, 
and  she  had  to  follow  her  thought  by  doing 
the  thing  she  thought  of.  Which  of  these 
two  were  the  more  terrible  she  did  not  know, 
but  there  was  no  difficulty  as  to  which  she 
must  do  first,  the  simple  orderliness  of  logic 
clamoured  that  she  must  think  before  she 
could  do  anything,  and,  so,  her  brain  set  to 
the  painful  weaving  of  webs  too  flimsy  at 
first  for  any  usage ;  but  on  this  day  she 
discovered  where  her  head  lay  and  how  to 
use  it  without  any  assistance.  She  had 
memory  to  work  with  also,  the  recollection 
of  her  father 's  activities,  and  memory  is 
knowledge  ;  a  well-packed  head  and  energy 
—  that  is  the  baggage  for  life,  it  is  the 
baggage  for  eternity. 

She  moved  to  the  head  of  the  ass  and 
pulled  his  ear  to  advance.  Caeltia  and 
Finaun  trod  beside  and  they  went  forward. 
Behind  came  Art  sniffing  with  the  hungriest 
of  nostrils  on  the  sunny  air,  for  it  was  five 
hours  since  they  had  eaten  and  more  than 
three  hours'  abstinence  was  painful  to  him. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

SHE  did  get  food.  She  nourished  her 
three  children  sumptuously,  but  she  made 
them  help  her  to  get  it. 

She  looked  at  Finaun's  high  nose,  his 
sweeping  beard,  his  air  as  of  a  good  child 
well  matured,  and  she  sent  it  to  the  market : 

"One  must  eat,"  said  she. 

When  they  came  to  a  house  by  the  road 
side  she  ordered  Finaun  to  the  door  to  ask 
for  bread ;  he  got  it  too  and  had  eaten  but 
the  slowest  mouthful  when  she  seized  it  from 
him  and  stocked  it  for  the  common  good. 

She  charged  Caeltia  through  the  open 
door  of  a  cottage,  and  his  expedition  was 
famous  for  eight  hours  afterwards. 

She  performed  feats  herself  in  a  fowl- 
house  and  a  cattle-pen,  but  she  did  not 
issue  any  commands  to  Art  except  at  the 
falling-to,  when  he  obeyed  adequately. 

236 


MARY   MAC   CANN  237 

She  recalled  the  deeds  of  her  father  in 
many  predicaments,  and  for  the  first  time 
she  really  understood  his  ceaseless  skill  and 
activity.  She  found  too  that  she  could 
recollect  his  tactics,  beside  which  her  own 
were  but  childish  blunderings,  and,  with 
that  memory  she  mended  her  hand,  and  life 
became  the  orderly  progression  which  every 
body  expects  it  to  be. 

That  night  by  the  glow  of  the  brazier  she 
rested  a  mind  that  had  never  been  weary 
before,  and  she  craved  for  the  presence  of 
her  father  that  she  might  gain  from  him  the 
praise  which  her  present  companions  did  not 
know  was  due  to  her. 

"Two  days  more,"  said  her  heart,  com 
municating  to  her  bitterly  as  they  proceeded 
on  the  morrow  morning,  but  she  banished 
the  thought  and  set  to  her  plots  and  plans. 
She  banished  it,  but  it  clung  with  her,  vague 
and  weighty  as  a  nightmare,  and  when  she 
looked  backwards  on  the  road  Art's  eyes 
were  looking  into  hers  with  a  quietness  that 


238  THE   DEMI-GODS 

almost  drove  her  mad.  She  could  not 
understand  him. 

They  had  never  spoken  to  each  other; 
not  once  had  they  spoken  directly  since  that 
night  when  he  stepped  into  the  glow  of  the 
brazier.  At  first  she  had  fled  from  him  in  a 
fear  which  was  all  shyness  and  wildness,  and 
so  an  overlooking  habit  had  been  formed 
between  them  which  he  had  never  sought  to 
break,  and  which  she  did  not  know  how  to 
put  an  end  to. 

"Two  days  !"  said  her  heart  again,  peal 
ing  it  to  her  through  her  webs,  and  again  she 
exiled  her  heart,  and  could  feel  its  wailing 
when  she  could  hear  it  no  longer. 

They  stopped  for  the  mid-day  meal; 
bread  and  potatoes  and  a  morsel  of  cheese ; 
the  fare  was  plentiful,  and  from  a  stream 
near  by  good  water  washed  it  down. 

The  reins  of  the  donkey  were  thrown 
across  the  limb  of  a  tree,  and  he  had  liberty 
to  browse  in  a  circle.  He  also  had  his  drink 
from  the  running  stream,  and  was  glad  of  it. 


MARY   MAC   CANN  239 

As  they  sat  three  people  marched  the  road 
behind  them;  they  saw  these  people,  and 
studied  their  advance. 

A  talkative,  a  disorderly  advance  it  was. 
An  advance  that  halted  every  few  paces 
for  parley,  and  moved  on  again  like  a 
battle. 

Two  men  and  a  woman  were  in  that  party, 
and  it  did  seem  that  they  were  fighting  every 
inch  of  their  way.  Certainly,  they  were 
laughing  also,  for  a  harsh  peal  came  creaking 
up  the  road,  and  came  again.  Once  ,the 
laugh  broke  abruptly  on  its  gruff  note  as 
though  a  hand  had  pounded  into  its  middle. 
Then  the  party  parleyed  again  and  moved 
again. 

What  they  said  could  not  be  distinguished, 
but  the  rumour  of  their  conversation  might 
have  been  heard  across  the  world.  They 
bawled  and  screamed,  and  always  through 
the  tumult  came  the  gruff  hoot  of  laughter. 

Said  Caeltia : 

"Do  you  know  these  people  ?" 

"The  woman  is  Eileen  Ni  Cooley,"  replied 


240  THE   DEMI-GODS 

Mary,  "for  I  know  her  walk,  but  I  don't 
know  the  shape  of  the  men." 

Caeltia  laughed  quietly  to  himself. 

"The  taller  of  these  men,"  said  he,  "is 
the  Seraph  Cuchulain,  the  other  man  is  that 
Brien  O'Brien  we  were  telling  you  of." 

Mary's  face  flamed,  but  she  made  no 
remark. 

In  a  few  minutes  these  people  drew  near. 

Eileen  Ni  Cooley  was  dishevelled.  Her 
shawl  hung  only  from  one  shoulder  and 
there  were  holes  in  it,  her  dress  was  tattered, 
and  a  long  wisp  of  red  hair  streamed  behind 
her  like  a  flame.  Her  face  was  red  also,  and 
her  eyes  were  anxious  as  they  roved  from  one 
to  the  other. 

She  came  directly  to  the  girl  and  sat  be 
side  her ;  young  Cuchulain  set  himself  down 
beside  Art,  but  Brien  O'Brien  stood  a  few 
paces  distant  with  his  fists  thrust  in  his 
pockets  and  he  chewing  strongly  on  tobacco. 
Every  now  and  then  he  growled  a  harsh 
creak  of  a  laugh  and  then  covered  it  osten 
tatiously  with  his  hand. 


MARY  MAC  CANN  241 

"  God  be  with  you,  Mary  Ni  Cahan,"  said 
Eileen  Ni  Cooley,  and  she  twisted  up  her 
flying  hair  and  arranged  her  shawl. 

"What's  wrong  with  you?"  said  Mary. 

"Where's  your  father?"  said  Eileen. 

"I  don't  know  where  he  is.  When  we 
lifted  from  sleep  a  morning  ago  he  wasn't  in 
his  place,  and  we  haven't  seen  him  since 
that  time." 

"What  am  I  going  to  do  at  all?"  said 
Eileen  in  a  low  voice.  "These  men  have 
me  tormented  the  way  I  don't  know  how  to 
manage." 

"What  could  my  father  do  ?"  said  Mary 
sternly,  "and  you  playing  tricks  on  him 
since  the  day  you  were  born." 

"That's  between  myself  and  him,"  replied 
Eileen,  "and  it  doesn't  matter  at  all.  I 
wanted  your  father  to  beat  O'Brien  for  me, 
for  he  won't  leave  me  alone  day  or  night, 
and  I  can't  get  away  from  him." 

Mary  leaned  to  her  whispering : 

"My  father  couldn't  beat  that  man,  for  I 
saw  the  two  of  them  fighting  on  the  Donny- 


242  THE   DEMI-GODS 

brook  Road,  and  he  had  no  chance  against 
him." 

"He  could  beat  him,  indeed,"  said  Eileen 
indignantly,  "and  I'd  give  him  good  help 
myself." 

"If  my  father  owes  you  anything,"  said 
Mary,  "I'm  ready  to  pay  it  for  him,  so  let 
us  both  rise  against  the  man,  and  maybe 
the  pair  of  us  would  make  him  fly." 

Eileen  stared  at  her. 

"I  hit  him  once,"  continued  Mary,  "and 
I  would  like  well  to  hit  him  again ;  my 
people  here  would  keep  his  friend  from  join 
ing  against  us." 

The  blue  eyes  of  Eileen  Ni  Cooley  shone 
with  contentment ;  she  slipped  the  shawl 
from  her  shoulders  and  let  it  drop  to  the 
ground. 

"We'll  do  that,  Mary,"  said  she,  "and 
let  us  do  it  now." 

So  the  women  lifted  to  their  feet  and  they 
walked  towards  Brien  O'Brien,  and  suddenly 
they  leaped  on  him  like  a  pair  of  panthers, 
and  they  leaped  so  suddenly  that  he  went 


MARY   MAC   CANN  243 

down  against  the  road  with  a  great  bump. 
But  he  did  not  stay  down. 

He  rose  after  one  dumbfounded  moment, 
and  he  played  with  the  pair  of  them  the  way 
a  conjurer  would  play  with  two  balls,  so  that 
the  breath  went  out  of  their  bodies,  and  they 
had  to  sit  down  or  suffocate. 

11  That's  the  kind  of  man  he  is,"  panted 
Eileen. 

"Very  well !"  said  Mary  fiercely,  " we'll 
try  him  again  in  a  minute." 

The  camp  was  in  confusion,  and  from  that 
confusion  Art  leaped  towards  Brien  O'Brien, 
but  the  Seraph  Cuchulain  leaped  and  out- 
leaped  Art,  and  set  himself  bristling  by  the 
elbow  of  his  friend ;  then  Caeltia,  with  his 
face  shining  happily,  tip-toed  forward  and 
ranged  with  Art  against  these  two,  but 
Finaun  went  quicker  than  they  all ;  he 
leaped  between  the  couples,  and  there 
was  not  a  man  of  the  four  dared  move 
against  his  hand. 

In  a  second  that  storm  blew  itself  out,  and 
they  returned  to  their  seats  smiling  foolishly. 


244  THE   DEMI-GODS 

"Let  the  women  be  quiet,"  said  Brien 
O'Brien  harshly. 

He  also  seated  himself,  with  his  back 
touching  against  the  donkey's  legs. 

The  ass  had  finished  eating  and  drinking, 
and  was  now  searching  the  horizon  with  the 
intent  eye  of  one  who  does  not  see  anything, 
but  only  looks  on  the  world  without  in  order 
to  focus  steadily  the  world  within. 

Brien  O'Brien  stared  with  a  new  interest 
at  Finaun,  and  revolved  his  quid.  Said  he 
to  Cuchulain : 

"  Would  the  old  lad  be  able  to  treat  us 
the  way  Rhadamanthus  did,  do  you  think  ?  " 

"He  could  do  that,"  laughed  Cuchulain, 
"and  he  could  do  it  easily." 

O'Brien  moved  the  quid  to  the  other  side 
of  his  jaw. 

"If  he  slung  us  out  of  this  place  we 
wouldn't  know  where  we  might  land,"  said 
he. 

"That  is  so,"  replied  Cuchulain,  thrusting 
a  sleek  curl  between  his  teeth.  "I  don't 
know  these  regions,  and  I  don't  know  where 


MARY  MAC  CANN  245 

we  might  land,  or  if  we  would  ever  land. 
Only  for  that  I  would  go  against  him/*  and 
he  waggled  his  finger  comically  at  Finaun. 

Art  commenced  to  snigger  and  Finaun 
laughed  heartily,  but  Caeltia  eyed  Cuchu- 
lain  so  menacingly  that  the  seraph  kept  a 
quiet  regard  on  him  for  the  rest  of  the  day. 

Peace  was  restored,  and  while  they  were 
revolving  peace  and  wondering  how  to 
express  it  Patsy  Mac  Cann  came  on  them 
from  a  side  path  that  ran  narrowly  between 
small  hills. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

WHEN  Mac  Cann  saw  the  visitors  he 
halted  for  an  instant  and  then  came  for 
ward  very  slowly,  with  his  head  on  one  side 
and  his  thumb  rasping  steadily  on  his  chin. 

He  was  staring  at  Brien  O'Brien,  and  as 
he  stared  he  bristled  like  a  dog. 

"It's  the  man  himself,"  said  he,  "the 
man  that  stole  my  clothes." 

O'Brien  peeped  upwards  at  him  but  did 
not  move. 

"Sit  down  and  hold  your  prate,"  said  he, 
"or  I'll  steal  your  life." 

Mac  Cann  would  have  thrown  himself  on 
his  enemy,  but  at  that  moment  he  caught 
sight  of  Eileen  Ni  Cooley  and  her  face  drove 
the  other  out  of  his  head. 

He  stared. 

"  It's  yourself  !"  said  he. 

"It  is  me,  sure  enough,  Padraig." 
246 


MARY    MAC   CANN  247 

"You'll  be  going  away  in  a  minute,  I 
suppose,"  said  he  grimly. 

He  sat  on  the  grass  and  there  was  peace 
once  more.  He  was  sitting  beside  O'Brien, 
and  the  ass  was  still  thinking  deeply  with 
his  hocks  touching  against  their  shoulder- 
blades. 

When  he  seated  himself  they  were  all 
silent,  for,  in  face  of  everything,  Mac  Cann 
took  the  lead,  and  they  waited  for  him  to 
speak. 

O'Brien  was  looking  at  him  sideways 
with  a  grin  on  his  hard  jaw.  He  creaked 
out  a  little  laugh  and  then  covered  it  up 
with  his  hand  as  one  who  was  abashed, 
but  Mac  Cann  paid  no  attention  to  him. 

His  attention  was  on  Eileen  Ni  Cooley. 

"You're  a  great  woman,"  said  he,  "and 
you're  full  of  fun  surely." 

"I'm  everything  you  like  to  call  me," 
replied  Eileen. 

"Which  of  the  men  are  you  with  this 
time,  or  are  you  travelling  with  the  pair  of 
them?" 


248  THE   DEMI-GODS 

"I  don't  want  either  of  them,  Padraig, 
but  I  can't  get  away  from  them  anyhow. 
They  won't  let  me  go  my  own  road,  and 
they're  marching  at  my  elbows  for  two 
days  and  two  nights,  cursing  and  kicking 
and  making  a  noise  every  step  of  the  way." 

"They're  doing  that !"  said  Patsy. 

"They  are  doing  that,  Padraig.  It's 
O'Brien  is  the  worst,  for  the  other  fellow 
is  only  helping  him  and  doesn't  care  for 
me  at  all.  Catching  me  they  do  be,  and 
holding  me.  ..." 

"Aye!"  said  Patsy. 

"I  can't  get  away  from  O'Brien,"  said 
she,  "and  I  thought  that  if  I  could  find 
yourself " 

"You  were  looking  for  me?" 

"I  was  looking  for  you  this  time, 
Padraig." 

"Aye!"  said  Patsy,  and  he  turned  a 
black  eye  on  Brien  O'Brien,  and  his  eye 
looked  like  a  little,  hard  ball  of  stone. 

"You'll  be  left  alone  from  this  day 
out,"  said  Patsy. 


MARY  MAC   CANN  249 

"Mind  yourself!"  growled  Brien 
O'Brien.  "Mind  yourself,  my  hardy  man, 
or  you'll  waken  up  among  the  spooks." 

Patsy  held  him  with  that  solid  eye. 

"Spooks!"  said  he,  and  suddenly  he 
rolled  on  top  of  Brien  O'Brien,  his  left 
hand  grabbing  at  the  throat,  his  right  fist 
jabbing  viciously  with  packed  knuckles. 

Down  went  Brien  O'Brien's  head  and  up 
went  his  heels ;  then  he  gave  a  mighty 
wriggle  and  started  to  come  up,  his  hands 
threshing  like  the  wings  of  a  mill.  As  he 
came  up  they  rolled,  and  now  Mac  Cann 
was  below ;  but  Brien  O'Brien's  head  had 
disturbed  the  donkey,  and,  without  emerg 
ing  from  cogitation,  the  ass  let  his  two 
heels  fly  at  the  enemy  of  thought  behind 
him ;  Patsy  saw  for  an  instant  the  white 
flash  of  those  little  hoofs  across  his  face, 
but  Brien  of  the  O'Brien  Nation  took 
them  full  on  his  forehead  and  his  brows 
crackled  in  like  the  shell  of  an  egg;  he 
relaxed,  he  sagged,  he  drooped  and  huddled 
limply  to  Patsy's  bosom,  and  for  three 


250  THE  DEMI-GODS 

seconds  Mac  Cann  lay  quietly  beneath 
him,  captured  by  astonishment. 

The  donkey  had  again  related  the  infinity 
without  to  the  eternity  within,  and  his 
little  hoofs  were  as  peaceful  as  his  mild  eye. 

Mac  Cann  tugged  himself  from  beneath 
that  weighty  carcass  and  came  to  his  feet. 

Mary  and  Eileen  were  both  sitting  rigid, 
with  arms  at  full  stretch  and  their  fingers 
tipping  straitly  on  the  ground,  while  their 
round  eyes  were  wide  in  an  unwinking 
stare. 

Caeltia  was  on  his  feet  and  was  crouching 
at  an  equally  crouching  Cuchulain.  Patsy 
saw  the  curl  jerking  as  the  lips  of  the 
seraph  laughed. 

Art  was  frozen  on  one  knee  in  the  mid- 
act  of  rising,  and  Finaun  was  combing  his 
beard  while  he  looked  fixedly  at  Eileen  Ni 
Cooley. 

Twenty  seconds  only  had  elasped  since 
Mac  Cann  rolled  sideways  on  Brien 
O'Brien. 

The  seraph  Cuchulain  was  staring  under 


MARY   MAC   CANN  251 

Caeltia's  arm.  He  blew  the  golden  curl 
from  his  lips  and  sounded  a  laugh  that 
was  like  the  ringing  of  silver  bells. 

''What  will  Rhadamanthus  say  this 
time?"  quoth  he,  and  with  that  he  turned 
and  tripped  happily  down  the  road  and 
away. 

Mac  Cann  regarded  the  corpse. 

"We  had  better  bury  the  man,"  said  he 
gloomily. 

He  took  a  short  spade  from  the  cart,  and 
with  it  he  made  a  hole  in  the  roadside. 

They  laid  Brien  O'Brien  in  that  hole. 

"Wait  for  a  minute,"  said  Mac  Cann. 
"It's  not  decent  to  send  him  off  that 
way." 

He  pushed  a  hand  into  his  pocket  and 
pulled  it  out  again  with  money  in  it. 

"He  should  have  something  with  him 
self  and  he  taking  the  long  journey." 

He  lifted  O'Brien's  clenched  fist,  forced 
it  open,  and  put  a  silver  threepenny- 
piece  into  it ;  then  he  tightened  the  pale 


252  THE   DEMI-GODS 

hand  again  and  folded  it  with  the  other 
on  his  breast. 

They  wrapped  a  newspaper  about  his 
face,  and  they  threw  the  clay  over  Brien 
of  the  O'Brien  Nation  and  stamped  it 
down  well  with  their  feet,  and  as  they 
left  him  the  twilight  stole  over  the  land, 
and  a  broad  star  looked  peacefully  down 
through  the  grey  distances. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

THEY  walked  through  the  evening. 

Dusk  had  fallen  and  in  the  drowsy  half- 
lights  the  world  stretched  itself  in 
peacefulness. 

They  had  come  to  a  flat  country  that 
whispered  in  grass ;  there  were  no  more  of 
the  little  hills  that  roll  and  fall  and  roll; 
there  were  scarcely  any  trees ;  here  and 
there  in  great  space  a  beech  swung  its 
slow  boughs  and  made  a  quiet  noise  in  the 
stillness;  here  and  there  a  stiff  tree  lifted 
its  lonely  greenness,  and  around  it  the 
vast  horizon  stretched  away  and  away  to 
sightlessness. 

There  was  silence  here,  there  was  deep 
silence,  and  over  all  the  dusk  drowsed  and 
folded  and  increased. 

With  what  slow  veils  the  darkness 
deepened !  the  gentle  weaver  spun  her 

253 


254  THE   DEMI-GODS 

thin  webs  and  drooped  soft  coverings  from 
the  sky  to  the  clay ;  momently  the  stars 
came  flashing  their  tiny  signals,  gathering 
their  bright  hosts  by  lonely  clusters,  and 
one  thin  sickle  of  the  moon  grew  from  a 
cloud  and  stood  distantly  as  a  sign  of 
gold. 

But  the  quiet  beauty  of  the  heavens 
and  the  quiet  falling  to  sleep  of  the  earth 
had  for  this  night  no  effect  on  one  of  our 
travellers. 

Mac  Cann  was  ill  at  ease.  He  was 
moody  and  irritable,  and  he  moved  from 
Eileen  Ni  Cooley  to  his  daughter  and 
back  again  to  Eileen  Ni  Cooley  and  could 
not  content  himself  with  either  of  them. 

The  angels  were  treading  at  the  rear  of 
the  cart  talking  among  themselves ;  the 
slow  drone  of  their  voices  drifted  up  the 
road,  and  from  this  murmuring  the  words 
God  and  Beauty  and  Love  would  detach 
themselves  and  sing  recurringly  on  the  air 
like  incantations. 

Eileen  Ni  Cooley  trod  on  the  left  side  of 


MARY   MAC   CANN  255 

the  ass.  She  trod  like  a  featureless  shade ; 
her  shawl  wrapped  blottingly  about  her 
face  and  her  mind  moving  within  herself 
and  for  herself. 

Mac  Cann  and  his  daughter  went  to 
gether  by  the  right  side  of  the  donkey, 
and,  as  he  looked  constantly  at  his  daughter, 
his  eyes  were  furtive  and  cunning. 

He  tapped  her  elbow. 

"Mary,"  he  whispered,  "I  want  to  talk 
to  you." 

She  replied  in  a  voice  that  was  low  from 
his  contact. 

"I  want  to  talk  to  yourself,"  said  she. 

"What  do  you  want  to  say?" 

"I  want  to  know  where  you  got  the 
money  that  I  saw  in  your  hand  when  you 
buried  the  man?" 

"That's  what  I'm  going  to  tell  you 
about,"  he  whispered.  "Be  listening  to 
me  now  and  don't  make  any  noise." 

"I'm  listening  to  you,"  said  Mary. 

"What  have  we  got  to  do  with  these  lads 
behind  us?"  said  Patsy  urgently.  "They 


256  THE   DEMI-GODS 

are  nothing  to  us  at  all,  and  I'm  tired  of 
them." 

"There's  a  thing  to  say  !"  quoth  she. 

"This  is  what  we'll  do.  To-night  we 
won't  unyoke  the  ass,  and  when  they  are 
well  asleep  we'll  walk  quietly  off  with 
ourselves  and  leave  them  there.  Eileen 
Ni  Cooley  will  come  with  us  and  in  the 
morning  we'll  be  distant." 

"I  won't  do  that,"  said  Mary. 

He  darted  at  her  a  sparkle  of  rage. 

''You'll  do  what  I  say,  you  strap,  or 
it'll  be  the  worse  for  you  !"  said  his  violent 
whisper. 

"I  won't  do  that,"  she  hissed,  "and  I 
tell  you  I  won't." 

"By  the  living  Jingo  .  .  .  !"  said 
Patsy. 

She  came  at  him  whispering  with  equal 
fierceness. 

"What  have  you  done  on  the  men?" 
said  she.  "What  did  you  do  on  them 
that  you  want  to  run  away  from  them  in 
the  night?" 


MARY   MAC  CANN  257 


"Keep  your  tongue  in  your  teeth, 
you-  -!" 

"Where  were  you  for  a  day  and  a  half  ? 
Where  did  you  get  the  money  from  that  I  saw 
in  your  hand  when  you  buried  the  man  ?  " 

Patsy  composed  himself  with  difficulty ; 
he  licked  his  dry  lips. 

"There's  no  fooling  you,  alannah,  and 
I'll  tell  you  the  truth." 

He  glanced  cautiously  to  where  the 
others  were  coming  deep  in  talk. 

"This  is  what  I  did.  I  went  to  that 
place  by  Ard-Martin  where  we  buried  the 
things,  and  I  dug  them  up." 

"Oh!"  said  Mary. 

"I  dug  them  up,  and  I  took  them  away, 
and  I  sold  them  to  a  man  for  money." 

"Oh!"  said  Mary. 

"They're  sold,  do  you  hear?  And 
there's  no  going  back  on  it ;  so  do  what 
I  tell  you  about  the  ass  this  night  and 
we'll  take  our  own  road  from  now  on." 

"I  won't  do  it,"  whispered  Mary,  and 
she  was  almost  speechless  with  rage. 


258  THE   DEMI-GODS 

Mac  Cann  thrust  his  face  close  to  hers 
grinning  like  a  madman. 

41  You  won't  do  it!"  said  he.  "What 
will  you  do  then  against  your  father?" 

"I'll  go  on  to  the  place  with  the  men," 
she  stammered. 

"You'll  come  with  me  this  night." 

"I'll  not  go,"  said  she  harshly. 

"You'll  come  with  me  this  night,"  said 
he. 

"I'll  not  go,"  she  screamed  at  him. 

At  the  sound  of  her  scream  everybody 
came  running  to  them. 

"Is  there  anything  wrong?"  said  Art. 

"She's  only  laughing  at  a  joke  I  told 
her,"  said  Patsy.  "Make  that  ass  go  on, 
Mary  a  grah,  for  it's  walking  as  if  it  was 
going  asleep." 

Caeltia  was  looking  at  Mac  Cann  so 
fixedly,  with  such  a  severe  gravity  of  eye, 
that  the  blood  of  the  man  turned  to  water 
and  he  could  scarcely  hold  himself  up 
right.  For  the  first  time  in  his  life  Mac 
Cann  knew  what  fear  was. 


MARY  MAC  CANN  259 

"To-morrow,"  said  Caeltia,  "we  will 
be  going  away  from  you,  let  us  be  peaceful 
then  for  our  last  night  together." 

"Aye,"  said  Patsy,  "let  us  be  comfort 
able  for  this  night  of  all  nights." 

He  turned  away,  and  with  a  great  effort 
at  carelessness  he  moved  to  the  donkey's 
head. 

"Come  on,  Mary,"  said  he. 

Eileen  Ni  Cooley  trod  beside  him  for  a 
moment. 

"What's  wrong  with  you,  Padraig?" 
said  she. 

"Nothing  at  all,  Eileen,  just  leave  me 
alone  for  a  minute  for  I  want  to  talk  to 
the  girl." 

"You  can  count  on  me  for  anything, 
Padraig." 

"I  don't  know  whether  I  can  or  not," 
he  muttered  savagely.  "Keep  quiet  for 
ten  minutes,  in  the  name  of  God." 

For  a  few  dull  seconds  they  paced  in 
quiet.  Patsy  moistened  his  lips  with  his 
tongue. 


26o  THE   DEMI-GODS 

"What  are  you  going  to  do,  Mary?" 

"I  don't  know,"  she  replied.  "What 
man  did  you  sell  the  things  to  ?" 

"I  sold  them  to  a  man  that  lives  near 
by  —  a  rich  man  in  a  big  house." 

"There's  only  one  big  house  about 
here." 

"That's  the  house." 

She  was  silent. 

"If  you're  going  to  tell  the  men,"  said 
her  father,  "give  me  two  hours'  law  this 
night  until  I  get  away,  and  then  you  can 
tell  them  and  be  damned  to  you." 

"Listen  to  me  !"  said  the  girl. 

"I'm  listening." 

"There  is  only  one  thing  to  be  done, 
and  it  has  got  to  be  done  at  once :  go  you 
to  the  place  of  that  rich  man  and  take  the 
things  away  from  his  house  and  bury 
them  back  again  in  the  place  they  were 
buried.  If  you  want  any  help  I'll  go  with 
you  myself." 

Mac  Cann's  thumb  wandered  to  his 
chin  and  a  sound  as  of  filing  was  heard 


MARY   MAC  CANN  261 

while  he  rubbed  it.  His  voice  was  quite 
changed  as  he  replied : 

"Begor!"  said  he. 

"You're  full  of  fun,"  said  he,  thought 
fully.  He  covered  his  mouth  with  his 
hand  then  and  stared  thoughtfully  down 
the  road. 

"Will  you  do  that?"  said  Mary. 

He  thumped  a  hand  heavily  on  her 
shoulder. 

"I  will  so,  and  I  do  wonder  that  I  didn't 
think  of  it  myself,  for  it's  the  thing  that 
ought  to  be  done." 

And  now  as  they  marched  the  atmos 
phere  had  changed ;  there  was  once  more 
peace  or  the  precursor  of  it ;  from  Mac 
Cann  a  tempered  happiness  radiated  as 
of  old:  he  looked  abroad  without  mis 
giving  and  he  looked  at  his  daughter  with 
the  cynical  kindliness  habitual  to  him. 
They  trod  so  for  a  little  time  arranging 
their  thoughts,  then : 

"We  are  near  enough  to  that  house  to 
be  far  enough  from  it  if  there's  any  reason 


262  THE   DEMI-GODS 

to  be  far,"  said  Mac  Cann,  "so  this  is 
what  I  say,  let  us  stop  where  we  are  for 
"the  night  and  in  the  morning  we'll  go  on 
from  here.'* 

"Very  well,"  said  Mary,  "let  us  stop 
here."  ' 

Her  father  drew  the  ass  to  the  side  of 
the  road  and  there  halted  it. 

"We'll  go  to  bed  now,"  he  shouted  to 
the  company,  and  they  all  agreed  to  that. 

"I'm  going  to  unyoke  the  beast,"  said 
Mary  with  a  steady  eye  on  her  father. 

He  replied  heartily. 

"Why  wouldn't  you  do  that?  Let  him 
out  to  get  something  to  eat  like  the  rest 
of  us." 

"There  isn't  any  water,"  he  complained 
a  minute  later.  "What  will  that  animal 
do?  and  what  will  we  do  ourselves?" 

"I  have  two  big  bottles  of  water  in  the 
cart,"  said  Mary. 

"And  I  have  a  little  bottle  in  my  pocket," 
said  he,  "so  we're  all  right." 

The  donkey  was  unyoked,  and  he  went 


MARY   MAC  CANN  263 

at  once  to  stand  with  his  feet  in  the  wet 
grass.  He  remained  so  for  a  long  time 
without  eating,  but  he  did  eat  when  that 
idea  occurred  to  him. 

The  brazier  was  lit,  the  sacks  strewn 
on  the  ground,  and  they  sat  about  the  fire 
in  their  accustomed  places  and  ate  their 
food.  After  a  smoke  and  a  little  con 
versation  each  person  stretched  backwards, 
covering  themselves  with  other  sacks,  and 
they  went  heartily  to  sleep. 

"We  will  have  to  be  up  early  in  the 
morning,"  was  Patsy's  last  remark,  "for 
you  are  in  a  hurry  to  get  back  your  things," 
and  saying  so  he  stretched  his  length  with 
the  others. 

When  a  still  hour  had  drifted  by  Mary 
raised  cautiously  and  tip-toed  to  her  father. 
As  she  stood  by  him  he  slid  the  sacks  aside 
and  came  to  his  feet,  and  they  moved  a 
little  way  down  the  road. 

"Now,"  said  Mary,  "you  can  do  what 
you  said  you'd  do." 


264  THE   DEMI-GODS 

"I'll  do  that,"  said  he. 

"And  get  back  as  quick  as  you  can." 

"It's  a  distance  there  and  back  again. 
I'll  be  here  in  the  morning,  but  I'll  be  late." 

"Bury  the  things  the  way  they  were 
before." 

"That's  all  right,"  and  he  moved  a  step 
backwards. 

"Father  !"  said  Mary  softly. 

He  returned  to  her. 

"What  more  do  you  want?"  said  he 
impatiently. 

She  put  her  arms  about  his  neck. 

"What  the  devil  are  you  doing?"  said 
he  in  astonishment,  and  he  tried  to  wriggle 
loose  from  her. 

But  she  did  not  say  another  word,  and 
after  a  moment  he  put  his  own  arms  about 
her  with  a  grunt  and  held  her  tightly. 

"I'm  away  now,"  said  he,  and,  moving 
against  the  darkness,  he  disappeared. 

For  half  a  minute  the  sound  of  his  feet 
was  heard,  and  then  the  darkness  covered 
him. 


MARY   MAC   CANN  265 

Mary  returned  to  her  place  by  the 
brazier.  She  stretched  close  to  Eileen  Ni 
Cooley  and  lay  staring  at  the  moving 
clouds. 

In  a  few  minutes  she  was  asleep,  although 
she  had  not  felt  any  heaviness  on  her  eyes. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

No  one  was  awake. 

In  the  brazier  a  faint  glow  peeped  from 
the  white  turf -ash  ;  the  earth  seemed  to  be 
holding  its  breath,  so  still  it  was;  the 
clouds  hung  immovably  each  in  its  place ; 
a  solitary  tree  near  by  folded  its  wide 
limbs  into  the  darkness  and  made  no  sound. 

Nothing  stirred  in  the  world  but  the  ass 
as  he  lifted  his  head  slowly  and  drooped  it 
again ;  his  feet  were  sunken  in  a  plot  of 
grass  and  he  was  quiet  as  the  earth. 

Then  I  came  softly,  and  I  spoke  to  the 
ass  in  the  darkness. 

"Little  ass,"  quoth  I,  "how  is  everything 
with  you?" 

"Everything  is  very  well,"  said  the  ass. 

"Little  ass,"  said  I,  "tell  me  what  you 
do  be  thinking  of  when  you  fix  your  eye  on 
vacancy  and  stare  there  for  a  long  time  ?" 

266 


MARY   MAC   CANN  267 

" I  do  be  thinking,"  said  the  ass,  "of  my 
companions,  and  sometimes  I  do  be  looking 
at  them." 

"Who  are  your  companions?" 
"Last  night  I  saw  the  Cyclops  striding 
across  a  hill ;  there  were  forty  of  them,  and 
each  man  was  forty  feet  high ;  they  had 
only  one  eye  in  their  heads  and  they  looked 
through  that ;  they  looked  through  it  the 
way  a  fire  stares  through  a  hole  and  they 
could  see  well." 

"How  do  you  know  they  could  see 
well?" 

"One  of  them  saw  me  and  he  called  out 
to  the  others;    they  did  not  wait,  but  he 
waited  for  a  moment ;    he  took  me  in  his 
arms  and  he  stroked  my  head ;    then  he 
put  me  on  the  ground  and  went  away,  and 
in  ten  strides  he  crossed  over  the  mountain." 
"That  was  a  good  sight  to  see  !" 
"That  was  a  good  sight." 
"Tell  me  something  else  you  saw." 
"I  saw  seven  girls  in  a  meadow  and  they 
were  playing  together;    when   they  were 


268  THE   DEMI-GODS 

tired  playing  they  lay  on  the  grass  and 
they  went  to  sleep ;  I  drew  near  and 
stretched  beside  them  on  the  grass,  and  I 
watched  them  for  a  long  time ;  but  when 
they  awakened  they  disappeared  into  the 
air  and  were  gone  like  puffs  of  smoke. 

"I  saw  the  fairy  host  marching  through 
a  valley  in  the  hills ;  wide,  silken  banners 
were  flying  above  their  heads;  some  had 
long  swords  in  their  hands  and  some  had 
musical  instruments,  and  there  were  others 
who  carried  a  golden  apple  in  their  hands, 
and  others  again  with  silver  lilies  and  cups 
of  heavy  silver;  they  were  beautiful  and 
proud  and  they  marched  courageously; 
they  marched  past  me  for  three  gay 
hours  while  I  stood  on  the  slope  of  a 
hill. 

"I  saw  three  centaurs  riding  out  of  a 
wood;  they  raced  round  and  round  me 
shouting  and  waving  their  hands;  one  of 
them  leaned  his  elbows  on  my  back,  and 
they  talked  of  a  place  in  the  middle  of  a 
forest ;  they  pelted  me  with  tufts  of  grass ; 


MARY   MAC   CANN  269 

then  they  went  by  a  narrow  path  into  the 
wood,  and  they  rode  away. 

' '  I  saw  a  herd  of  wild  asses  in  a  plain ; 
men  were  creeping  around  them  in  the  long 
grass,  but  the  asses  ran  suddenly,  and  they 
killed  the  men  with  their  hoofs  and  their 
teeth  ;  I  galloped  in  the  middle  of  them  for 
half  a  night,  but  I  remembered  Mary  Ni 
Cahan,  and  when  I  remembered  her  I 
turned  from  all  my  companions  and  I 
galloped  home  again." 

"Those  were  all  good  sights  to  see  !" 

"They  were  all  good  sights." 

"  Good-bye,  little  ass,"  said  I. 

"Good-bye,  you,"  said  he. 

He  lay  along  the  grass  then  and  he 
closed  his  eyes,  but  I  turned  back  and 
crouched  by  the  brazier,  watching  the 
people  while  they  slept,  and  staring  often 
into  the  darkness  to  see  did  anything  stir 
before  the  light  came. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

MAC  CANN  strode  through  the  darkness 
for  a  little  time,  but  when  he  found  him 
self  at  sufficient  distance  from  the  camp 
he  began  to  run. 

There  was  not  very  much  time  wherein 
to  do  all  that  he  had  engaged  before  the 
morning  dawned,  and  so  he  took  to  this 
mode  of  activity,  which  was  not  one  for 
which  he  had  any  reverence.  He  was  a 
heavy  man  and  did  not  run  with  either 
grace  or  ease,  but  he  could  hasten  his 
movements  to  a  jog-trot,  and,  as  his 
physical  condition  was  perfect,  he  could 
continue  such  a  trot  until  hunger  brought 
it  to  a  halt,  for  he  was  never  fatigued, 
being  as  strong  and  tireless  as  a  bear. 

He  was  the  most  simple-minded  of  men. 
When  he  was  engaged  in  one  affair  he  could 
not  meddle  with  anything  else,  and  now 

270 


MARY   MAC  CANN  271 

that  he  was  running  he  could  do  nothing 
but  run  —  he  could  not  think,  for  instance. 
When  it  was  necessary  to  think  he  would 
either  walk  very  slowly  or  stand  stock- 
still,  and  then  he  would  think  with  great 
speed  and  with  great  simplicity.  His  head 
bade  his  legs  be  quiet  while  it  was  occupied, 
and,  when  they  were  in  motion,  his  legs 
tramped  hush  to  his  head,  which  obeyed 
instantly;  and  he  was  so  well  organised 
on  these  lines  that  there  was  never  any 
quarrel  between  the  extremities. 

It  was,  therefore,  the  emptiest  of  men 
that  now  pounded  the  road.  He  would 
deal  with  an  emergency  when  it  was 
visible,  but  until  then  he  snapped  a  finger 
and  forgot  it,  for  he  had  learned  that  the 
first  word  of  an  emergency  is  a  warning, 
the  second  a  direction  for  escape,  its  third 
utterance  is  in  action,  and  it  will  only  be 
waited  for  by  a  fool. 

Exactly  what  he  would  do  when  he 
arrived  at  the  house  he  did  not  know,  and 
as  yet  he  made  no  effort  to  deal  with  that 


272  THE   DEMI-GODS 

problem:  he  obeyed  the  prime  logical 
necessity,  which  was  to  get  there:  once 
there  and  the  second  step  would  push  it 
self  against  him,  and  from  that  cause  the 
most  orderly  of  results  would  ensue.  If 
there  was  no  trouble  he  would  succeed 
in  his  enterprise ;  if  there  was  trouble 
he  would  fly  —  that  was  his  simple  pro 
gramme. 

And  meantime  there  was  nothing  in  the 
world  but  darkness  and  the  rhythmic 
tramping  of  his  feet.  These,  with  a  faintly 
hushing  wind,  kept  his  ears  occupied.  He 
had  much  of  the  cat's  facility  for  seeing 
in  the  dark,  and  he  had  the  sense  of  direc 
tion  which  some  birds  have,  so  he  made 
good  progress. 

After  half  an  hour's  steady  movement 
he  came  to  the  house  for  which  he  was 
seeking,  and  halted  there. 

It  was  a  long,  low  building,  standing 
back  from  the  road.  There  was  a  stone 
wall  around  this  house,  and  the  entrance 
was  by  an  iron  gate. 


MARY   MAC   CANN  273 

Mac  Cann  touched  the  gate,  for  ex 
perience  had  taught  him  that  gates  are 
not  always  locked,  but  this  one  was  locked 
securely.  By  the  gate  was  a  caretaker's 
lodge,  so  he  moved  quietly  from  that 
place  and  walked  by  the  wall. 

There  was  glass  on  the  top  of  the  wall 
which  halted  him  for  a  few  moments  while 
he  sucked  his  incautious  hand.  To  cope 
with  this  he  gathered  several  large  stones 
and  placed  them  on  top  of  each  other  and 
he  stood  on  these,  then  he  threw  his  coat 
and  waistcoat  over  the  glass  and  climbed 
easily  across. 

He  was  in  a  shrubbery.  About  him 
every  few  paces  were  short,  stiff  bushes, 
some  of  which  were  armed  with  spines, 
which  did  their  duty  on  his  hands  and 
the  legs  of  his  trousers ;  but  he  regarded 
these  with  an  inattention  which  must 
have  disgusted  them.  He  tip-toed  among 
these  guardians  and  was  shortly  free  of 
them  and  on  a  gravel  pathway.  Crossing 
this  he  came  on  quiet  flower-beds,  which  • 
T 


274  THE   DEMI-GODS 

he  skirted :  the  house  was  now  visible  as 
a  dark  mass  distant  some  hundred  yards. 

Saving  for  one  window  the  place  was 
entirely  dark,  and  it  was  towards  that 
window  he  directed  his  careful  steps. 

"It's  better  to  look  at  something  than 
at  nothing,"  quoth  he. 

He  was  again  on  a  gravel  path,  and  the 
stones  tried  to  crunch  and  wriggle  under  his 
feet,  but  he  did  not  allow  that  to  happen. 

He  came  to  the  window  and,  standing 
well  to  the  side,  peeped  in. 

He  saw  a  square  room  furnished  as  a 
library.  The  entire  section  of  the  walls 
which  he  could  spy  was  covered  from 
floor  to  ceiling  with  books.  There  were 
volumes  of  every  size,  every  shape,  every 
colour.  There  were  long,  narrow  books 
that  held  themselves  like  grenadiers  at 
stiff  attention.  There  were  short,  fat 
books  that  stood  solidly  like  aldermen 
who  were  going  to  make  speeches  and 
were  ashamed  but  not  frightened.  There 
were  mediocre  books  bearing  themselves 


MARY   MAC  CANN  275 

with  the  carelessness  of  folk  who  are  never 
looked  at  and  have  consequently  no  shy 
ness.  There  were  solemn  books  that 
seemed  to  be  feeling  for  their  spectacles; 
and  there  were  tattered,  important  books 
that  had  got  dirty  because  they  took 
snuff,  and  were  tattered  because  they  had 
been  crossed  in  love  and  had  never  married 
afterwards.  There  were  prim,  ancient 
tomes  that  were  certainly  ashamed  of 
their  heroines  and  utterly  unable  to  ob 
tain  a  divorce  from  the  hussies ;  and  there 
were  lean,  rakish  volumes  that  leaned 
carelessly,  or  perhaps  it  was  with  studied 
elegance,  against  their  neighbours,  mur 
muring  in  affected  tones,  "All  heroines 
are  charming  to  us."  -^ 

In  the  centre  of  the  room  was  a  heavy, 
black  table,  and  upon  the  highly  polished 
surface  of  this  a  yellow  light  fell  from 
globes  on  the  ceiling. 

At  this  table  a  man  was  seated,  and  he 
was  staring  at  his  hands.  He  was  a  man 
of  about  thirty  years  of  age.  A  tall, 


276  THE   DEMI-GODS 

slender  man  with  a  lean  face,  and,  to 
Patsy,  he  was  of  an  appalling  cleanliness 
—  a  cleanliness  really  to  make  one 
shudder :  he  was  shaved  to  the  last  close 
ness  ;  he  was  washed  to  the  ultimate  rub ; 
on  him  both  soap  and  water  had  wrought 
their  utmost,  and  could  have  no  further 
ambitions ;  his  wristlets  gleamed  like  snow 
on  a  tree,  and  his  collar  rose  upon  a  black 
coat  as  the  plumage  of  a  swan  emerges 
spotlessly  from  water. 

His  cleanliness  was  a  sight  to  terrify 
any  tramp,  but  it  only  angered  Mac  Cann, 
who  was  not  liable  to  terror  of  anything 
but  hunger. 

"I  would  like  to  give  you  a  thump  on 
the  head,  you  dirty  dog!"  said  Patsy, 
breathing  fiercely  against  the  corner  of 
the  window-pane,  and  his  use  of  the  ad 
jective  was  singular  as  showing  in  what 
strange  ways  extremes  can  meet. 

This  was  the  man  to  whom  he  had  sold 
the  gear  of  his  companions :  an  indelicate 
business  indeed,  and  one  which  the  clean- 


MARY   MAC   CANN  277 

liness  of  the  purchaser  assisted  him  to 
rectify,  and  it  was  in  this  room  that  the 
barter  had  been  conducted.  By  craning 
his  neck  a  little  he  could  see  an  oaken 
settle,  and  upon  this  his  sacks  were  lying 
with  their  mouths  open  and  the  gleaming 
cloths  flooding  at  the  entry. 

While  he  stared,  the  man  removed  his 
fingers  from  his  eyes  and  put  them  in  his 
pocket,  then  he  arose  very  slowly  and 
paced  thoughtfully  towards  the  window. 

Mac  Cann  immediately  ducked  beneath 
the  window-ledge.  He  heard  the  window 
opened  and  knew  the  man  was  leaning  his 
elbows  on  the  sill  while  he  stared  into  the 
darkness. 

"Begor  !"  said  Patsy  to  himself,  and  he 
flattened  his  body  against  the  wall. 

After  a  time,  which  felt  longer  than  it 
could  have  been,  he  heard  the  man  moving 
away,  and  he  then  popped  up  and  again 
peeped  through  the  window. 

The  man  had  opened  the  door  of  the 
room  which  faced  the  window  and  was 


278  THE   DEMI-GODS 

standing  in  the  entry.  Now  his  hands 
were  clasped  behind  his  back,  his  head 
was  sunken  forward,  and  he  seemed  to  be 
looking  at  his  feet,  which  is  the  habit  of 
many  men  when  they  think,  for  when  the 
eyes  touch  the  feet  a  circuit  is  formed  and 
one's  entire  body  is  able  to  think  at  ease. 

Suddenly  the  man  stepped  into  a  black 
corridor  and  he  disappeared.  Mac  Cann 
heard  about  ten  steps  ringing  from  a  solid 
flooring,  then  he  heard  a  door  open  and 
shut,  then  he  heard  nothing  but  the  shift 
ing  and  rubbing  of  his  own  clothes  and  the 
sound  his  own  nose  made  when  he  breathed 
outwards :  there  was  a  leathern  belt  about 
his  middle,  and  from  the  noise  which  it 
made  one  would  have  fancied  that  it  was 
woven  of  thunders  —  there  was  a  great 
silence ;  the  lighted  room  was  both  in 
viting  and  terrifying,  for  it  was  even 
more  silent  than  the  world  outside ;  the 
steady  globes  stared  at  the  window  like 
the  eyes  of  a  mad  fish,  and  one  could 
imagine  that  the  room  had  pricked  up 


MARY  MAC  CANN  279 

invisible  ears  and  was  listening  towards 
the  window,  and  one  could  imagine  also 
that  the  room  would  squeak  and  wail  if 
any  person  were  to  come  through  any 
where  but  a  door  and  stand  in  it. 

Mac  Cann  did  not  imagine  any  of  these 
things.  He  spat  on  his  hands,  and  in  the 
twinkling  of  an  eye  he  was  inside  the 
window.  In  three  long  and  hasty  paces 
he  placed  a  hand  on  each  of  the  sacks, 
and  just  as  he  gripped  them  he  heard  a 
door  opening,  and  he  heard  the  footsteps 
ringing  again  on  a  solid  flooring. 

"I'm  in,"  said  he,  viciously,  "and  I 
won't  go  out." 

His  eyes  blinked  around  like  the  flash 
of  lightning  but  there  was  no  place  to  hide. 
He  stepped  across  the  oaken  chest  and 
crouched  down.  Behind  him,  from  the 
floor  upwards,  were  books,  in  front  was  the 
big  chest,  and  on  top  of  it  the  two  bulging 
sacks.  He  was  well  screened  and  he  could 
peep  between  the  sacks. 

He  stared  towards  the  door. 


280  THE   DEMI-GODS 

The  clean  man  came  in  and  stood  aside. 
Following  him  came  a  woman  who  was,  if 
anything,  more  rigorously  washed  than  he 
was.  Somehow,  although  she  was  a  tall 
woman,  she  seemed  as  light  as  a  feather. 
She  was  clad  in  a  delicate  pink  gown  of 
such  gossamer  quality  that  it  balanced 
and  swam  on  the  air  with  every  movement 
she  made.  Across  her  bare  shoulders  was 
a  lawn  veiling,  which  also  sailed  and 
billowed  as  she  moved.  Her  hair  seemed 
to  be  of  the  finest  spun  gold,  light  as 
thistle-down,  and  it,  too,  waved  and  floated 
in  little  strands  and  ringlets. 

These  two  people  sat  down  at  different 
sides  of  the  table,  and  for  a  time  they  did 
not  speak  to  each  other.  Then  the  man 
raised  his  head : 

"I  got  a  letter  from  your  mother  this 
morning,"  said  he  in  a  low  voice. 

The  woman  answered  him  in  a  tone  that 
was  equally  low : 

"I  did  not  know  you  corresponded  with 
her." 


MARY  MAC  CANN  281 

The  man  made  a  slight  gesture : 

"Nor  did  I  know  that  your  correspon 
dence  was  as  peculiar  as  I  have  found  it," 
said  he. 

Said  the  woman  coldly : 

"You  are  opening  this  subject  again." 

"I  am:  I  have  to:  your  mother  con 
firms  everything  that  I  have  charged  you 
with." 

"  My  mother  hates  me,"  said  the  woman, 
"she  would  confirm  anything  that  was 
said  of  me,  if  it  was  bad  enough." 

"She  is  your  mother." 

"Oh  no,  she  is  not !  When  I  ceased  to 
be  a  child  she  ceased  to  be  a  mother.  We 
are  only  two  women  who  are  so  well  ac 
quainted  that  we  can  be  enemies  without 
any  shame  of  each  other." 

"Are  you  not  talking  nonsense?" 

"I  have  committed  a  crime  against  her. 
She  will  never  forgive  me  for  being  younger 
than  she  is,  and  for  being  pretty  in  her  own 
fashion.  She  left  my  father  because  he 
said  I  was  good-looking." 


282  THE   DEMI-GODS 

"All  that  .  .  .  !"  said  the  man  with  a 
movement  of  his  shoulder. 

"As  to  what  she  would  do  against  me, 
you  should  know  it  well  enough  considering 
the  things  she  told  you  before  we  were 
married. " 

"You  admitted  that  they  were  not  all 
lies." 

"Some  of  the  facts  were  true,  all  of  the 
colouring  was  false  —  they  are  the  things  a 
loving  mother  says  about  her  daughter ! 
but  that  is  an  old  story  now,  or  I  had 
fancied  so." 

"One  forgets  the  old  story  until  the 
new  story  drags  it  to  memory,"  said  he. 

She  also  moved  her  shoulders  slightly. 

"I  begin  to  find  these  conversations 
tiresome." 

"I  can  understand  that.  .  .  .  With  her 
letter  your  mother  enclosed  some  other 
letters  from  her  friends  —  they  insist  on 
the  facts,  and  add  others." 

"Are  they  letters,  or  copies  of  letters?" 

"They  are  copies." 


MARY   MAC  CANN  283 

"Of  course  my  mother  has  forbidden  you 
to  disclose  the  fact  that  she  forwarded  her 
friends'  private  correspondence  to  you." 

"  Naturally." 

"Very  naturally;  the  reason  being  that 
she  wrote  these  letters  herself  to  herself. 
There  are  no  originals  of  these  copies." 

"Again  you  are  talking  nonsense." 

"I  know  her  better  than  you  do,  better 
than  she  knows  herself." 

There  was  silence  between  them  again 
for  a  few  moments,  and  again  it  was 
broken  by  the  man. 

"There  are  some  things  I  cannot  do," 
said  he,  and  paused  : 

"I  cannot  search  in  unclean  places  for 
unclean  information,"  he  continued,  and 
again  the  silence  fell  between  these  two 
people. 

She  could  bear  that  silence,  but  he 
could  not : 

"You  do  not  say  anything  !"  said  he. 

"This  seems  to  be  so  entirely  your  busi 
ness,"  was  her  quiet  reply. 


284  THE   DEMI-GODS 

He  moved  a  hand  at  that : 

"You  cannot  divorce  yourself  from  me 
with  such  ease.  This  is  our  business,  and 
we  must  settle  it  between  us." 

Her  hand  was  resting  on  the  table,  and 
suddenly  he  reached  to  her  and  laid  his 
own  hand  on  hers.  She  did  not  withdraw, 
but  the  stiffening  of  her  body  was  more 
than  withdrawal.  He  drew  his  hand  away 
again. 

"We  are  reasonable  creatures  and  must 
question  our  difficulties,"  said  he  gently, 
"we  must  even  help  each  other  to  resolve 
them." 

"These  difficulties  are  not  of  my  making." 

"They  are,  and  you  are  lying  to  me 
shamelessly." 

Again  between  these  people  a  silence 
fell  which  was  profound  but  not  quiet. 
That  soundlessness  was  tingling  with 
sound ;  there  were  screams  latent  in  it ; 
it  was  atrocious  and  terrifying.  The  man's 
hand  was  pressed  against  his  forehead  and 
his  eyes  were  closed,  but  what  he  was 


MARY  MAC  CANN  285 

looking  at  was  known  only  to  himself  in 
the  silence  of  his  being.  The  woman  sat 
upright  an  arm's-length  from  him,  and 
although  her  eyes  were  wide  and  calm, 
she  also  was  regarding  that  which  was  free 
within  herself,  and  very  visible  to  her. 

"There  are  things  I  cannot  do,"  said 
the  man,  emerging  as  with  an  effort  from 
subterranean  caves  and  secret  prospects. 
He  continued  speaking,  calmly  but  tone- 
lessly : 

"I  have  striven  to  make  a  rule  of  life  for 
myself  and  to  follow  it,  but  I  have  not 
sought  to  impose  my  laws  on  any  one  else 
—  not  on  you,  certainly.  Still  there  are 
elementary  duties  which  we  owe  to  one 
another  and  which  cannot  be  renounced 
by  either  of  us.  There  is  a  personal,  I 
might  say,  a  domestic  loyalty  expected 
by  each  of  us.  .  .  ." 

"I  expect  nothing,"  said  she. 

"I  exact  nothing,"  said  the  man,  "but 
I  expect  that  —  I  expect  it  as  I  expect 
air  for  my  lungs  and  stability  under  my 


286  THE   DEMI-GODS 

feet.  You  must  not  withdraw  that  from 
me.  You  are  not  the  individual  you 
think ;  you  are  a  member  of  society,  and 
you  live  by  it ;  you  are  a  member  of  my 
household,  and  you  live  by  it." 

She  turned  her  face  to  him  but  not  her 
eyes. 

"I  do  not  ask  anything  from  you,"  said 
she,  "and  I  have  accepted  as  little  as  was 
possible." 

He  clenched  his  hand  on  the  table,  but 
when  he  spoke  his  voice  was  without 
emphasis : 

"That  is  part  of  my  grievance  against 
you.  Life  is  to  give  and  take  without 
any  weighing  of  the  gifts.  You  will  do 
neither,  and  yet  our  circumstances  are 
such  that  we  must  accommodate  each 
other  whether  we  will  or  not." 

"I  am  an  exact  man,"  he  continued, 
"perhaps  you  find  that  trying,  but  I  can 
not  live  in  doubt.  Whatever  happens  to 
hinder  or  assist  my  consciousness  must  be 
known  to  me.  It  is  a  law  of  my  being: 


MARY   MAC  CANN  287 

it  is  my  ancestral  heritage,  and  I  have  no 
command  over  it." 

"I  also,"  said  she  coldly,  "am  an  heir  of 
the  ages,  and  must  take  my  bequests 
whether  I  like  them  or  not." 

"I  love  you,"  said  the  man,  "and  I 
have  proved  it  many  times.  I  am  not 
demonstrative,  and  I  am  shy  of  this 
fashion  of  speech.  Perhaps  that  shyness 
of  speech  is  responsible  for  more  than  is 
apparent  to  either  of  us  in  a  world  eager 
for  speech  and  gesture,  but  I  say  the  word 
now  in  all  sincerity,  with  a  gravity,  per 
haps,  which  you  find  repulsive.  Be  at 
least  as  honest  with  me,  no  matter  how 
cruel  you  are.  I  cannot  live  in  the  half- 
knowledge  which  is  jealousy.  It  tears  my 
heart.  It  makes  me  unfit  for  thought,  for 
life,  for  sleep,  even  for  death.  I  must 
know,  or  I  am  a  madman  and  no  man  any 
longer,  a  wild  beast  that  will  bite  itself 
in  despair  of  hurting  its  enemy." 

The  woman*  s  tongue  slipped  over  her 
pale  lips  in  a  quick,  red  flash. 


288  THE   DEMI-GODS 

"Have  you  anything  to  say  to  me?" 
said  he. 

There  was  no  reply. 

He  insisted : 

"Are  the  statements  in  your  mother's 
letter  true?" 

"My  mother's  letter !"  said  she. 

"Have  I  reason  for  this  jealousy?"  he 
breathed. 

Her  reply  was  also  but  a  breathing : 

"I  will  not  tell  you  anything,"  said 
she. 

Once  again  the  silence  drowsed  and 
droned  between  the  two  people,  and  again 
they  repaired  to  the  secret  places  of  their 
souls  where  energy  was  sucked  from  them 
until  they  existed  only  in  a  torpor.  The 
woman  rose  languidly  from  her  chair, 
and,  after  an  instant,  the  man  stood  also. 

Said  he : 

"I  will  leave  here  in  the  morning." 

"You  will  let  me  see  the  boy,"  she 
murmured. 

"If,"  said  he,   "I  ever  learn  that  you 


MARY   MAC   CANN  289 

have  spoken  to  the  boy  I  will  kill  you,  and 
I  will  kill  the  boy." 

The  woman  went  out  then,  and  her  feet 
tapped  lightly  along  the  corridor.  The 
man  turned  down  the  lights  in  the  yellow 
globes  and  stepped  to  the  door;  his  foot 
steps  also  died  away  in  the  darkness,  but 
in  a  different  direction. 

Mac  Cann  stood  up : 

"Begor  !"  said  he,  stretching  his  cramped 
knees. 

About  him  was  a  great  darkness  and  a 
great  silence,  and  the  air  of  that  room  was 
more  unpleasant  than  any  atmosphere  he 
had  ever  breathed.  But  he  had  the  nerves 
of  a  bear  and  a  resolute  adherence  to  his 
own  business,  so  the  excitement  of  another 
person  could  only  disturb  him  for  a  moment. 
Still,  he  did  not  like  the  room,  and  he  made 
all  haste  to  get  out  of  it. 

He  lifted  the  sacks,  stepped  carefully  to 
the  window,  and  dropped  them  out.  Then 
he  climbed  through  and  picked  them  up. 


290  THE   DEMI-GODS 

In  five  minutes  he  was  on  the  road  again. 
Along  it  for  some  dozen  yards  he  trod  like 
a  great  cat  until  he  had  left  the  gate-keeper's 
lodge  well  behind  him  ;  then,  with  the  sacks 
across  his  shoulders,  he  shook  to  the  steady 
jog-trot  which  was  to  last  for  abo.ut  three 
hours. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

MARY  awakened  early. 

The  morning  was  grey  and  the  sky  flat 
and  solid,  with  here  and  there  thin  furrows 
marking  its  gathered  fields. 

She  raised  her  head,  and  looked  towards 
her  father's  place,  but  he  was  not  there,  and 
the  sacks  were  crumpled  on  the  ground. 

Finaun's  great  length  was  lying  along 
the  ground,  and  he  was  straight  as  a  rod. 
Caeltia  was  curved  a  little,  and  one  hand 
was  flung  above  his  head.  Art  was  rolled 
up  like  a  ball ;  his  hands  were  gripped  about 
his  knees,  and  he  had  kicked  the  sacks  off 
his  body.  Eileen  Ni  Cooley  had  her  two 
arms  under  her  face ;  she  was  lying  on  her 
breast,  and  her  hair  streamed  sidewards  from 
her  head  along  the  dull  grass. 

As  Mary  lay  back,  for  it  was  still  too 
early  to  rise,  a  thought  came  to  her  and  she 

291 


292  THE   DEMI-GODS 

rose  to  her  feet  again.  She  thought  that  per 
haps  her  father  had  come  softly  in  the  night 
and  moved  the  ass  and  cart  away  with  him, 
and  that  thought  lifted  her  breast  in  panic. 

She  ran  down  the  road  and  saw  the  cart 
with  its  shafts  poked  in  the  air,  and  further 
away  the  donkey  was  lying  on  his  side. 

She  came  back  on  tip-toe  smiling  happily 
to  herself,  and,  with  infinite  precaution,  she 
restored  the  sacks  to  Art's  body  and  com 
posed  herself  again  to  sleep.  She  did  not 
raise  the  camp,  for  she  wished  to  give  her 
father  all  possible  time  so  that  he  might 
return  unnoticed. 

And  while  she  slept  the  sky  unpacked  its 
locked  courses ;  the  great  galleons  of  cloud 
went  sailing  to  the  west,  and  thus,  fleet  by 
fleet,  relieved  those  crowded  harbours.  The 
black  cloud-masses  went  rolling  on  the 
sky  —  They  grew  together,  touched  and 
swung  apart  and  slipped  away  with  heavy 
haste,  as  when  down  narrow  waters  an 
armada  weighs,  filling  listlessly  her  noisy 
sails,  while  the  slender  spars  are  hauled  to 


MARY   MAC  CANN  293 

the  breeze ;  the  watchmen  stand  at  the 
posts,  and  the  fenders  are  still  hung  from 
the  pitching  sides;  almost  the  vessels 
touch ;  the  shipmen  shout  as  they  bear 
heavily  on  their  oaken  poles  ;  and  then  they 
swing  again,  the  great  prows  bear  away,  the 
waters  boil  between,  and  the  loud  farewells 
sing  faintly  to  the  waves. 

And  now  the  sky  was  a  bright  sea  sown 
with  islands ;  they  shrank  and  crumbled 
and  drifted  away,  islands  no  more,  but  a 
multitude  of  plumes  and  flakes  and  smoky 
wreaths  hastily  scudding,  for  the  sun  had 
lifted  his  tranquil  eye  on  the  heavens ; 
he  stared  afar  down  the  grey  spaces,  and 
before  his  gaze  the  mists  went  huddling 
and  hiding  in  lovely  haste  ;  the  dark  spaces 
became  white,  the  dark  blue  spaces  became 
light  blue,  and  earth  and  sky  sparkled  and 
shone  in  his  radiant  beam. 

The  camp  awakened  before  Mary  did, 
and  again  the  enquiry  went  as  to  the  where 
abouts  of  her  father : 


294  THE   DEMI-GODS 

"He  will  be  here  shortly,"  said  Mary. 
"  He  must  have  gone  along  the  road  to  see  if 
there  was  anything  he  could  find  for  us  to 
eat,"  and  she  delayed  the  preparation  of 
their  breakfast  to  the  last  possible  moment. 
She  spilled  a  pot  of  boiling  water  to  that 
end,  and  she  overturned  the  brazier  when 
the  water  boiled  again. 

They  were  about  sitting  to  their  food 
when  Mac  Cann  came  in  sight,  and  she  held 
the  meal  until  his  arrival  with  his  hat  far  to 
the  back  of  his  head,  the  happiest  of  smiles 
on  his  face,  and  a  newspaper  bundle  in 
his  hand. 

Mary  gave  him  a  look  of  quick  meaning : 

"Were  you  able  to  find  anything  for  the 
breakfast?"  said  she,  and  then  she  was 
astonished. 

"I  was  indeed,"  he  replied,  and  he  handed 
her  the  bulky  newspaper  package. 

She  used  that  occasion  to  whisper  to  him  : 

"Well?" 

"That's  all  right,"  said  he,  nodding  at 
the  bundle,  but  really  in  answer  to  her  query. 


MARY   MAC  CANN  295 

She  opened  the  parcel. 

There  were  slices  of  bacon  in  it  and  slices 
of  beef ;  there  were  ten  sausages  in  it  and 
the  biggest  half  of  a  loaf  —  these,  with  a 
small  flat  bottle  full  of  rum  and  two  pairs 
of  stockings,  made  up  the  parcel. 

"Put  the  sausages  in  a  pan,"  said  Patsy, 
"and  share  them  round  and  well  eat 
them." 

Mary  did  put  them  on  the  pan,  and  when 
they  were  cooked  she  shared  them  round, 
and  they  were  fairly  eaten. 

After  breakfast  the  pipes  were  lit,  but 
they  rose  almost  immediately  to  continue 
the  journey. 

"This  evening,"  said  Finaun,  "we  will  be 
saying  good-bye." 

"Aye,"  said  Mac  Cann,  "I'm  sorry 
you're  going,  for  we  had  a  good  time  to 
gether." 

The  ass  took  his  instructions,  and  they 
went  down  the  road.  Their  places  were 
now  as  they  had  always  been  —  Finaun 
and  Eileen  Ni  Cooley  and  Mary  Mac  Cann 


296  THE   DEMI-GODS 

went  with  the  ass,  and  there  was  no  lack  of 
conversation  in  that  assembly,  for  some 
times  they  talked  to  one  another  and  some 
times  they  talked  to  the  ass,  but  the  donkey 
listened  no  matter  who  was  being  talked 
to,  and  not  a  person  objected  to  him. 

Patsy  and  Caeltia  marched  sturdily  at 
the  tailboard,  and  they  were  close  in  talk. 

Behind  them  Art  was  ranging  aimlessly, 
and  lilting  snatches  of  song.  He  did  not 
know  the  entire  of  any  song  but  he  knew 
verses  of  many,  and  he  was  able  to  relate 
the  tunes  of  these  so  harmoniously,  with 
such  gradual  slipping  of  theme  into  theme, 
that  twenty  minutes  of  his  varied  lilting 
could  appear  like  one  consecutive  piece  of 
music. 

"That  lad  has  a  great  ear/'  said  Patsy. 
"He  could  make  his  fortune  at  the  music. " 

"He  is  a  musician,"  Caeltia  replied. 
"That  is  his  business  when  we  are  in  our 
own  place,  and,  as  you  can  see,  it  is  his 
pleasure  also." 

Patsy  was  in  high  spirits.     Now  that  he 


MARY   MAC   CANN  297 

had  successfully  undone  that  which  he  had 
done  a  real  weight  had  lifted  from  him. 
But  the  thing  was  still  so  near  that  he  could 
not  get  easily  from  it.  His  head  was  full  of 
the  adventures  of  the  last  few  days,  and 
although  he  could  not  speak  of  them  he 
could  touch  them,  sound  them,  lift  the  lid 
of  his  mystery  and  snap  it  to  again,  chuck 
ling  meanwhile  to  himself  that  those  who 
were  concerned  did  not  know  what  he  was 
talking  about,  and  yet  he  was  talking  to 
himself,  or  to  one  cognisant,  in  hardy,  ade 
quate  symbol.  A  puerile  game  for  a  person 
whose  youth  had  been  left  behind  for  twenty 
years,  but  one  which  is  often  played  never 
theless  and  by  the  most  solemn  minds. 

It  was  with  an  impish  carelessness  that  he 
addressed  Caeltia : 

"It  won't  be  long  before  we  are  there/' 
said  he. 

"That  is  so,"  was  the  reply. 

"You'll  be  feeling  fine,  I'm  thinking, 
when  you  get  your  own  clothes  on  again." 

"I  have  not  missed  them  very  much." 


298  THE   DEMI-GODS 

"I  hope  your  wings  and  your  grand  gear 
will  be  all  right. " 

"Why  should  you  doubt  it?"  returned 
the  seraph. 

"What,"  said  Patsy,  "if  they  were  robbed 
on  you !  You'd  be  rightly  in  the  cart, 
mister,  if  that  happened." 

Caeltia  puffed  quietly  at  his  pipe. 

"They  were  robbed,"  said  he. 

"Eh  !"  cried  Mac  Cann  sharply. 

The  seraph  turned  to  him,  his  eyes 
brimming  with  laughter. 

"Aye,  indeed,"  said  he. 

Mac  Cann  was  silent  for  a  few  seconds, 
but  he  did  not  dare  to  be  silent  any 
longer. 

"You're  full  of  fun,"  said  he  sourly. 
"What  are  you  talking  about  at  all  ?" 

"Finaun  and  I  knew  all  about  it,"  said 
Caeltia,  "and  we  were  wondering  what 
would  be  done  by  the  person." 

"What  did  he  do  ?"  said  Patsy  angrily. 

Caeltia  returned  the  pipe  to  his  mouth. 

"He  put  them  back,"  said  he. 


MARY   MAC   CANN  299 

"Only  for  that,"  he  continued,  "we 
might  have  had  to  recover  them  our 
selves.  " 

"Would  you  have  been  able  to  get  them 
back?"  said  Mac  Cann  humbly. 

"We  would  have  got  them  back  ;  there  is 
nothing  in  the  world  could  stand  against  us 
two ;  there  is  nothing  in  the  world  could 
stand  against  one  of  us." 

Patsy  jerked  a  thumb  to  where  Art  was 
lilting  the  open  bars  of  "The  Wind  that 
shakes  the  Barley"  : 

"Wouldn't  the  boy  help?"  said  he. 
"How  old  is  the  lad?" 

"I  don't  know,"  smiled  Caeltia.  "He 
remembers  more  than  one  Day  of  a  Great 
Breath,  but  he  has  no  power  for  he  has 
never  had  being,  and  so  did  not  win  to 
knowledge ;  he  could  give  help,  for  he  is 
very  strong." 

"Could  you  have  licked  Cuchulain  that 
day?"  said  Patsy  timidly. 

"I  am  older  than  he,"  replied  Caeltia, 
"that  is  to  say  I  am  wiser  than  he." 


300  THE   DEMI-GODS 

"But  he  was  up  there  with  yourself  and 
could  learn  the  tricks." 

"There  is  no  secrecy  in  this  world  or  in 
the  others,  and  there  are  no  tricks  :  there  is 
Knowledge,  but  no  person  can  learn  more 
than  his  head  is  ready  to  welcome.  That  is 
why  robbery  is  infantile  and  of  no  impor 
tance." 

"It  fills  the  stomach,"  replied  Patsy 
cunningly. 

"The  stomach  has  to  be  filled,"  said 
Caeltia.  "Its  filling  is  a  necessity  superior 
to  any  proprietarial  right  or  disciplinary 
ethic,  and  its  problem  is  difficult  only  for 
children  ;  it  is  filled  by  the  air  and  the  wind, 
the  rain  and  the  clay,  and  the  tiny  lives 
that  move  in  the  clay.  There  is  but  one 
property  worth  stealing ;  it  is  never  missed 
by  its  owners,  although  every  person  who 
has  that  property  offers  it  to  all  men  from 
his  gentle  hands." 

"You're  trying  to  talk  like  Finaun," 
said  Patsy  gloomily. 

They   walked    then   in    silence    for   ten 


MARY   MAC   CANN  301 

minutes.  Every  vestige  of  impishness  had 
fled  from  Mac  Cann ;  he  was  a  miserable 
man ;  his  vanity  was  hurt  and  he  was 
frightened,  and  this  extraordinary  combina 
tion  of  moods  plunged  him  to  a  depression 
so  profound  that  he  could  not  climb  there 
from  without  assistance. 

Said  Caeltia  to  him  after  a  little  : 

"  There  is  a  thing  I  would  like  to  see 
done,  my  friend." 

Mac  Cann's  reply  came  sagging  as  he 
hauled  his  limp  ideas  from  those  pits. 

"What's  that,  your  honour  ?  " 

"I  would  like  to  see  the  money  thrown 
into  this  ditch  as  we  go  by." 

Patsy's  depression  vanished  as  at  the 
glare  of  a  torch  and  the  trumpet  of  danger. 
He  nosed  the  air  and  sniffed  like  a  horse. 

' '  Begor  ! ' '  said  he.  ' '  You're  full  of . 

There's  no  sense  in  that,"  said  he  sharply. 

"That  is  what  I  would  like  to  see,  but 
everybody  must  act  exactly  as  they  are  able 
to  act." 

"I  tell  you  there  isn't  any  sense  in  it; 


302  THE   DEMI-GODS 

give  me  a  reasonable  thing  to  do  in  the 
name  of  God  and  I'll  do  it." 

"That  is  the  only  thing  I  want  done/' 

"What's  the  use  of  making  a  fool  of  me  ?  " 

"Am  I  demanding  anything  ?" 

When  they  had  walked  a  few  paces : 

"What  is  it,  after  all!"  said  Patsy 
proudly. 

He  thrust  his  hands  into  his  pockets  and 
exhibited  them  full  of  gold  and  silver. 

"Just  a  pitch  of  my  hand  and  it's  gone  !" 
said  he. 

"That  is  all,"  said  Caeltia.  "It's  easily 
done." 

"So  it  is,"  growled  Patsy,  and  he  swung 
his  arm. 

But  he  dropped  the  hand  again. 

"Wait  a  minute,"  and  he  called  Eileen 
Ni  Cooley  to  his  side. 

"Walk  with  ourselves,  Eileen,  and  don't 
be  a  stranger.  There's  something  I  want 
to  show  you." 

He  opened  his  hand  before  her  and  it 
was  flooding  and  flashing  in  gold. 


MARY   MAC  CANN  303 

She  stared  with  the  awe  of  one  who  looks 
on  miracles. 

"There's  a  great  deal  of  money  there," 
she  gasped. 

"There's  fifteen  golden  pounds  and  some 
shillings  in  it,"  said  Patsy,  "and  here's  all  I 
care  for  them." 

He  flung  his  hand  then  and  sped  the 
money  at  the  full  force  of  his  shoulder. 

"That's  all  I  care  for  the  stuff,"  said  he, 
and  he  gripped  her  arm  to  prevent  her 
bounding  to  its  recovery. 

"Come  on,  woman  dear,  and  leave  the 
ha'pence  alone." 

Said  Caeltia : 

"There  is  something  I  must  throw  away 
also,  for  I  am  getting  too  fond  of  it." 

"What's  that?"  said  Mac  Cann  curi 
ously. 

"It's  this  pipe,"  the  seraph  replied,  and 
he  balanced  it  by  the  mouthpiece. 

"Don't  throw  away  the  good  pipe," 
cried  Eileen  Ni  Cooley.  "Am  I  walking 
beside  a  pair  of  wild  men  this  day  ?" 


304  THE   DEMI-GODS 

Patsy  interrupted  also. 

"Hold  on  for  a  minute.  Give  me  the 
pipe  and  you  can  take  this  one."  He  took 
Caeltia' s  silver-mounted  briar  and  he  passed 
to  the  seraph  his  own  blackened  clay. 

"You  can  throw  that  one  away,"  said 
he,  and  he  popped  Caeltia's  pipe  into  his 
own  mouth. 

"It  will  do  that  way,"  said  Caeltia  sadly. 

He  held  the  pipe  by  the  stem,  and  with  a 
sharp  movement  snapped  it  in  halves  ;  the 
head  fell  to  the  ground  and  a  small  tight  wad 
of  burning  tobacco  jumped  from  it  at  the 
shock. 

"There  it  is,"  said  Caeltia. 

He  jerked  the  piece  of  broken  stem  from 
his  hand,  and  after  sighing  deeply  they 
marched  on. 

Eileen  Ni  Cooley  was  angry. 

"Padraig,"  said  she,  "what  made  you 
throw  all  the  golden  money  away,  and  the 
silver  money  ?" 

Patsy  regarded  her  with  the  calm  eye  of  a 
king. 


MARY  MAC  CANN  305 

"Stick  your  arm  through  mine,  Eileen/' 
said  he,  "and  let  us  be  comfortable  as  we 
go  along,  for  the  pair  of  us  haven't  had  a 
talk  for  a  long  time,  and  Caeltia  here  wants 
to  talk  to  you  as  well  as  me." 

"That  is  so,"  said  Caeltia. 

Eileen  did  put  her  arm  in  his,  and  as  they 
stepped  briskly  forward  she  stared  at  him 
with  eyes  that  were  round  with  admiration 
and  astonishment. 

"Aren't  you  the  queer  man,  Padraig!" 
said  she. 

"I  suppose,"  said  Patsy,  "that  you'll  be 
slipping  away  from  us  some  time  to-night  ?  " 

"Not  if  you  want  me  to  stay,  Padraig." 

They  opened  a  new  conversation  on  that. 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

THAT  day  they  did  not  stay  their  travel, 
even  to  eat. 

Finaun  was  urgent,  and  they  ate  from 
their  hands  as  they  marched.  The  ass 
moved  his  slender  legs  briskly,  the  cart 
rumbled,  and  the  metals  in  it  clashed  and 
thumped  as  the  wheels  jolted  on  the  rutty 
path. 

They  met  no  person  as  they  went. 

From  the  fields  near  by  came  the  fresh 
odour  of  wild  grass  that  out-breathed  again 
to  the  sun  his  living  breath ;  and  the  sun 
shone,  not  fiercely,  but  kindly,  tempering 
down  the  oblique  ways  his  potent  fire; 
above  their  heads  and  slanting  away  on 
wide  wings  the  birds  were  sailing,  calling 
a  note  as  they  went  and  calling  again  ;  here 
were  trees  once  more  ;  their  grave  shadows 
slept  on  the  road,  stamping  the  golden  light 
with  a  die  of  ebony,  and  their  grave  voices 

306 


MARY  MAC   CANN  307 

whispered  busily,  quietly,  like  the  voices 
of  many  mothers  who  fold  against  fruitful 
breasts  the  little  children ;  so  they  crooned 
and  sang  racking  their  ample  greenery  on 
the  air. 

In  the  afternoon  they  reached  the  hill, 
close  to  the  top  of  which  the  angels*  finery 
was  buried. 

When  they  had  ascended  this  hill  for 
nearly  an  hour  the  donkey  struck  work. 

He  stood,  and  nothing  would  induce  him 
to  move  further  in  that  direction.  Indeed, 
he  slewed  the  cart  completely  round,  and 
pointed  his  nose  and  his  shafts  in  the  direc 
tion  which  he  considered  reasonable. 

They  halted. 

11  He'll  not  go  up  there/*  said  Mary,  and 
she  pulled  the  long  nose  to  her  bosom. 

"He  will  not/'  said  her  father.  "Will 
you  leave  that  ass  alone,  Mary.  Give  him 
back  his  snout  and  behave  yourself  like  a 
Christian  girl." 

"You  leave  me  alone,"  said  Mary,  "what 
harm  am  I  doing  to  yourself?" 


308  THE   DEMI-GODS 

"It's  that  I  don't  like  to  see  a  woman 
kissing  an  ass." 

"Well,  if  you  don't  look  at  me  you  won't 
see  anything." 

"You're  full  of  fun,"  said  her  father 
sternly. 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  turned  to 
Finaun : 

"He  did  this  once  before  on  us  and  we 
going  up  a  tall  hill  in  Connaught,  and 
although  I  hammered  the  skin  off  his  back 
he  wouldn't  move  a  step ;  he's  a  great  ass, 
mind  you,  mister,  and  maybe  we  ought  to 
have  looked  for  a  gentler  way  up  this  hill." 

Finaun  was  feeding  tufts  of  grass  to  the 
donkey,  and  the  donkey  was  eating  these 
with  appetite. 

"There  is  no  need  to  come  further,"  said 
Finaun.  "We  are  almost  in  sight  of  the 
place  and  can  make  our  adieus  here." 

"Oh  !  we'll  leave  the  beast,"  cried  Mac 
Cann,  "and  we'll  all  go  up  to  see  the  last  of 
you." 

"It  is  better  that  we  should  part  here," 


MARY   MAC   CANN  309 

said  Finaun  gently.  "We  do  not  wish  to  be 
seen  at  the  last." 

"You  can  have  it  your  own  way/'  said 
Patsy  sulkily. 

Finaun  stood  towering  over  Mac  Cann ; 
he  placed  his  hands  on  Patsy's  shoulders 
and  solemnly  blessed  him  in  round  lan 
guage,  then  he  kissed  him  tenderly  on  either 
cheek. 

"Begor!"   said  Patsy. 

And  Finaun  did  the  same  for  Eileen  Ni 
Cooley  and  for  Mary,  and  he  kissed  the 
two  of  them  on  their  cheeks,  then  he  laid 
his  palm  on  the  donkey's  muzzle  and 
blessed  that  beast,  and  he  strode  mightily 
up  the  hill. 

Caeltia  advanced  to  Patsy,  but  Mac  Cann 
was  embarrassed.  He  had  been  kissed  by  a 
man,  so  he  lit  his  pipe  in  self-defence  and 
kept  it  in  his  mouth. 

"You're  going  off?"  said  he  to  Caeltia, 
and  he  puffed  like  a  chimney. 

"I'm  going  off,"  replied  Caeltia  in  a  low 
voice. 


3io  THE   DEMI-GODS 

Patsy  took  the  pipe  from  his  mouth  and 
put  it  into  the  seraph's  hand. 

"Here,"  said  he,  "take  a  last  pull  at  that 
and  ease  your  heart. " 

Caeltia  did  take  it,  and  he  smoked  it, 
and  it  did  ease  his  heart. 

"I'll  give  you  the  spade  out  of  the  cart," 
continued  Patsy,  "for  you'll  have  to  dig 
the  things  up.  There  it  is,  and  it  doesn't 
matter  whether  it's  lost  or  not." 

"It  is  good-bye  now,"  said  Caeltia, 
shouldering  the  spade,  and  he  returned  the 
pipe  to  Patsy,  who  put  it  instantly  in  his 
mouth. 

Caeltia  held  out  his  hand  and  Mac  Cann 
put  his  own  into  it. 

While  their  hands  were  together  Patsy 
was  seized  with  compunction  —  he  drew 
the  seraph  aside  a  few  paces : 

"Listen!"  said  he.  "I  played  a  trick 
on  you  the  time  I  was  taking  the  money  out 
of  my  pocket  to  throw  it  away." 

"Yes?"  said  Caeltia. 

"I  let  one  of  the  gold  pieces  slip  through 


MARY   MAC   CANN  311 

my  fingers,  and  it's  lying  at  the  bottom  of 
my  pocket  at  this  minute,  but  I'll  throw  it 
away,  mister  honey,  if  you  say  so." 

Caeltia  looked  at  him,  and  a  smile  of 
great  contentment  crept  over  his  lips. 

"If  I  were  you,"  said  he,  "I'd  keep 
it." 

Mac  Cann  nodded  at  him  very  solemnly  : 

"I'll  keep  it,"  said  he  earnestly,  "and 
I'll  spend  it." 

Caeltia  then  said  his  adieus  to  the  others, 
and  he  tramped  up  the  hill  with  the  spade 
balanced  in  his  hand. 

The  piece  of  gold  was  burning  in  Patsy's 
pocket.  He  turned  to  Art : 

"Well,  young  boy  !  there's  my  hand  and 
good  luck  be  with  you ;  give  up  racing 
about  and  climbing  trees  and  you'll  be  all 
right ;  you've  the  makings  of  a  good  hand 
on  you,  and  that's  a  great  thing,  and  you've 
got  the  music." 

"Good-bye,"  said  Art,  and  they  shook 
hands. 

Eileen  Ni  Cooley  took  his  hand  also,  then 


312  THE   DEMI-GODS 

she  and  Patsy  strode  to  the  cart,  and  with 
the  donkey  they  moved  down  the  hill. 

Mary  stood  in  front  of  Art,  and  she  did 
not  look  at  him ;  she  turned  her  grave  face 
away,  and  stared  sidewards  where  the  late 
sunshine  drowsed  in  gold  on  the  rough 
slopes.  She  put  her  hand  out  tolhim. 

He  took  her  hand  and  held  it  between  his 
own ;  he  raised  it  to  his  lips  and  he  held  it 
there  pressing  against  his  mouth. 

He  dropped  it,  and  stood  back  a  pace 
staring  at  her ;  he  struck  his  hands  together 
in  a  wild  movement ;  he  turned  and  ran 
swiftly  after  his  companions. 

These  two  had  never  spoken  to  each 
other. 

Near  the  top  of  the  hill  he  came  on 
Finaun  and  Caeltia,  and  the  three  went 
together. 

In  a  little  they  reached  the  point  in  the 
road  where  they  had  slept  during  their  first 
night  on  earth,  and  where  they  had  eaten 
their  first  meal  on  a  sunny  morning.  Dis 
tant  a  few  paces  they  saw  the  tree. 


MARY   MAC   CANN  313 

Caeltia  dug  there  until  he  uncovered  the 
sacks.  He  pulled  these  from  the  clay  and 
opened  them,  and  each  of  the  angels 
retrieved  his  own  belongings  from  the 
medley. 

Finaun  was  urgent  and  thoughtful.  He 
apparelled  himself  hastily,  while,  with  less 
speed,  Caeltia  also  achieved  his  change. 
But  Art  sat  on  the  ground  fingering  his 
raiment,  and  seemed  to  be  lost  in  a  contem 
plation  of  the  grass  beside  him. 

Finaun  was  ready.  He  stood  upright,  a 
kingly  figure,  shimmering  in  purple  folds. 
On  his  head  a  great  crown,  closed  at  the  top  ; 
across  his  shoulder  a  chain  of  heavy  gold, 
and  depending  on  his  breast  a  broad  plaque 
of  gold  that  blazed. 

He  looked  at  the  others  and  nodded,  then 
he  leaped,  and  at  a  hundred  feet  the  sun 
flashed  from  his  wings,  and  he  looked  like  a 
part  of  the  rainbow. 

Now  Caeltia  was  ready,  standing  in 
cloth  of  gold  and  lovely  ornaments  of 
hammered  silver.  He  scanned  once  more 


3H  THE    DEMI-GODS 

the  drowsing  landscape ;  he  smiled  on  Art ; 
he  sprang  aloft  and  abroad  and  sped  up 
wards  in  a  blinding  gleam. 

Art  raised  himself. 

He  lifted  the  crimson  robe  that  was 
dashed  with  gold,  the  crimson  buskins 
feathered  at  the  heel,  the  wide  crown  of 
short  points.  He  placed  these  on  the 
ground  and  stood  for  a  time  looking  down 
the  road,  while  the  many-coloured  pinions 
streamed  lengthily  from  his  hand. 

Suddenly  he  frowned,  and,  with  the  wings 
still  dragging,  he  ran  down  the  path. 

In  five  minutes  he  came  to  the  place  where 
they  had  left  the  ass,  but  it  was  no  longer 
there.  Far  below  on  the  curving  ways  he 
saw  the  donkey  moving  quietly.  Mac  Cann 
and  Eileen  Ni  Cooley  were  going  by  each 
other's  side,  and  Patsy's  arm  was  about  the 
woman. 

He  looked  around,  and  at  a  little  distance 
saw  the  girl  beside  a  bush.  She  was  lying 
on  her  breast,  her  face  was  hidden  into  the 
ground,  and  she  was  motionless. 


MARY   MAC   CANN  315 

He  walked  to  her. 

"Mary,"  said  he,  "I  have  come  to  say 
farewell." 

She  moved  as  at  a  shock.  She  rose  to 
her  feet,  and  she  did  not  look  at  him,  and 
this  was  the  first  time  that  these  two  had 
talked  together. 

He  bent  to  her  beseechingly  : 

"I  have  come  to  say  farewell,"  said 
he. 

Again  she  put  her  hand  into  his : 

"Say  your  say,"  quoth  she,  "and  go  your 
road,"  and  with  that  she  did  look  at  him, 
sternly. 

He  loosed  her  hand ;  his  eyes  flamed ;  he 
stamped  the  road  ;  he  swung  his  arms  aloft 
gripping  the  wings,  and,  with  a  fierce  move 
ment,  he  ripped  them  in  twain ;  he  put  the 
halves  together  and  tore  again,  then,  with  a 
sweep  of  his  hands,  fluttered  the  shining 
plumes  away  and  on  the  wind. 

"Now!"  quoth  he,  with  a  laugh. 

"Oh  !"  she  stammered,  staring,  terrified, 
incredulous. 


3i6  THE   DEMI-GODS 

"Let  you  and  I  go  down  after  the  people," 
he  said. 

But  Mary  was  weeping,  and  as  they  paced 
down  the  narrow  track  he  laid  a  great  arm 
about  her  shoulder. 


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